Daddy's Little Girl
by Noterwomann
Summary: Captain Ron Weasley and his team are the best Aurors the Ministry has. But when one of the missions goes wrong Ron finds himself straddled with the last thing he ever expected. AU Not Deathly Hallows Compliant.
1. Blythe Manor

Chapter One: Blythe Manor

His back was pressed up to the side of the large brick house, the rough blocks digging into his spine. He turned his head and looked back to where his second in command was also pressed up against the wall. He watched him tilt his head slowly forward and back giving the signal that the rest of their squad was ready. Ron turned back around and slowly raised his hand. He waited a moment, hand raised above his head before lowering it swiftly. The Aurors moved swiftly toward the entrances, barging through the door and sweeping into the wide halls and massive rooms of Blythe Manor.

Ron burst through the front doors and into the formal sitting room to the right. He came to a sudden halt, his entire body tensing. In an instant his concerns were realized. Felix Blume, the newest and most brilliant member of Ron's team, was being held and wand point, his body tensed, his back arched, and his nostrils flared as he strained away from the length of wood. Ron altered his hold on his wand, tightening his grip and aiming it at the heart of Timothy Blythe.

"We have you surrounded, Blythe. Let him go."

Blythe pressed the tip of his wand harder into the fleshy part of Felix's neck causing the young man to instinctually arch his back further in an attempt to get away from the weapon. A sneer appeared on the lips of the man, "I don't tolerate trespassing." He pulled violently on the youth's hair. "This one lost his life the moment he stepped foot on my property." His eyes narrowed calculatingly. "The rest of you can live if you leave now."

"I have a warrant for your arrest." Ron inched slowly closer. "I'm here to take you and your wife in."

Blythe sneered unattractively. "On what grounds?"

"Blackmail. Conspiracy. Murder. Basically being a Death Eater and everything that title encompasses."

Blythe's pale green eyes spiked with panic. "You have no evidence."

"On the contrary," Ron was now standing a few paces away from the struggling pair. "We have more than enough to send you to Azkaban for the rest of your life."

"What ever you have on me won't stand a chance against the Wizengamot. I have too …" There was sudden an explosion of sound from the hallway cutting Blythe off. Felix used his captors moment of distraction to his advantage, throwing his weight back against Timothy, throwing him off balance long enough to break free of his arms. "You'll never take me alive." Screamed the hysterical voice of Vyvica Watter Blythe. From the corner of his eye Ron could see that the hall was now filled with the sudden bursts of color that was spells and jinxes being cast back and forth between his crew and the known Death Eater.

In his moment of distraction Ron didn't see Timothy raise his wand and jab it at Ron. "Sir, look out." Felix shouted.

Reacting instantly Ron dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way of the curse. Coming to a stop he threw an impediment jinx, Blythe side stepped it, throwing his own curse in return. Ron was on his feet, ducking and swerving, caught in a strange dance with the other man. Wandless, Felix kept out of the way, ducking behind the ancient sofa to protect himself from stray spells.

The battle inside the drawing room was fierce; Ron had to pull every ounce of his reserve to stay one step ahead of the Death Eater. Like his wife, Timothy was fighting to the death and seemed determine to take Ron with him.

Blythe was well prepared and Ron could feel himself losing ground. The Death Eater had spells in his arsenal that Ron had never heard of. He would have lost too, but in the moment before Blythe would have moved in to claim his victory a terrified scream rent the air rendering them both motionless. The scream was soon followed by a sickening thud. "Vyv?" Timothy's eyes widened with possessed anger. He took a step toward the door but stopped and in a sudden burst of renewed energy struck out against Ron. "You've killed my wife." He renewed his spell work with a vengeance. Ron was bombarded with a volley of spells, all aimed at ending his life as quickly and painfully as possible. Miraculously Ron was able to dodge the Death Eaters curses, managing to throw back a few spells himself. The other Aurors, following the sound of battle, burst into the room, taking cover and waiting for the right moment to help bring the fight to an end.

Sensing that all was lost, Timothy screwed up his face. "_Avada__-" _a cutting spell silenced the words as it slit through his throat and brought Timothy Blythe's life to a sudden end. Eyes wide with realization he fell to his knees, his hands clutching at his throat, before slumping forward onto the floor, the carpet soaking crimson with his blood.

Panting heavily Ron lowered his arm. He turned to the members of his squad gathered in the room, sizing them up. They had been together for a long time, and each of them was loyal to a fault. Knowing who had cast the final spell, Ron slowly turned and looked Gavin Banning in the eyes, thanking him with his own. "Vyvica's dead as well?" He asked the room at large.

"She received a stunner to the chest, sir." Parker Gale, Ron's partner since training and second in command stepped forward, "she fell over the banister."

Ron nodded slowly looking down at the lifeless body of Timothy Blythe. "I don't know about you," he looked up at his fellows, "but I think we could all use a break from paperwork tonight. You all know I'm a stickler for Protocol, but this piece of Dragon's Dung tried to Avada me. If it hadn't been for the quick thinking of one of you I would probably now be dead. So I say – he threw the curse that killed him. Did anyone see anything different?"

"No, sir." The voices resounded around the room with a hint of relief.

"Right. So let's finish up here so we can all get home. If I'm late for family dinner again Mum will have my head."

Several members of his squad chuckled merrily. There was no bounds to the amusement the rest of the squad held at their captains unwavering fear of his mothers wrath. Not once had they seen him quail under the most extreme of conditions. He handled every assignment with a cool head, a knack for strategy, and a fearless determination. But the mere thought of upsetting his mother caused their fearless captain to go pale and physically blanch.

"All right. Gale, you lead Winston, Banning, Mathews and Jones in a search of the upstairs. Parker, you, Stone, Damon, Williams and Schue search this floor. Blume," Ron turned to face the young Auror who was still standing behind the sofa. "I wan ta talk to you about what happened." Felix lowered his head, giving it a small nod that he understood. "All right team, move out."

Ron waited until the rest of the squad had left the room before closing the door and beckoning Felix closer. "All right." He crossed his arms comfortably over his chest; his feet braced shoulder length apart. "What happened?"

The younger man's face flushed with shame. "I got careless, sir. They caught me rifling through their things looking for evidence." He hung his head, afraid to look Ron in the eyes and see the disappointment he knew would be there. "I'm sorry I let you down sir."

Ron sighed heavily. "You didn't let me down Felix." He slowly uncrossed his arms and clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "You did more for this investigation than anyone. We lost three Aurors to this mission and you were able to accomplish what they couldn't. If it weren't for you we wouldn't have the evidence we needed to build a case against these two." His fingers tightened, biting slightly into Felix's shoulder. "But you scared the hell out of me. You're too valuable to this team and your far too young to lose already. Which is why I think it's best if I send you back to training camp for a bit of a refresher course."

Felix's chin dropped down to his chest and his eyes swam with tears of shame.

"Felix Blume," Ron said in a voice that demanded his attention. "Don't go thinking less of yourself. Some of the greatest Aurors I've had the privlage of working with were sent back for a refresher course. I myself insisted my Captain send me back."

Felix snorted with disbelief.

"What?" Ron arched a brow. "You don't believe me?" He turned and settled his hip against the arm of the sofa, crossing his arms and ankles, perfecting a pose of both comfort and confidence. "Two years out of training I grew careless. Cocky even. Gale almost lost his life because of my lack of focus. I told my captain at the time that she had either send me back or I was going to be giving my resignation. I wasn't willing to cause another person's death."

"What did she say to that?"

"You know, I don't really remember. I was so worried she was going to accept my resignation that I didn't hear half of it. But I do know the end result was the entire squad being sent back for a refresher course. She seemed to think that we had all grown a bit careless."

"I'm so sorry I let you down sir."

Ron rose from his position against the sofa. "I already told you, I'm just relieved you're all right."

Felix opened his mouth to speak but stopped at the first rap of knuckles against the heavy wood.

Ron turned to face the door when the gentle but persistent knock came again. "Come in." He called, taking his authoritative pose, feet planted shoulder length apart, arms clasped behind his back, shoulders squared and chin jutted.

Gwendolyn Mathews' s olive skinned face appeared in the doorway, "I'm sorry to interrupt Captain," she stepped into the room. "Banning sent me to retrieve you. There's something you need to see." She looked past Ron to Felix. "You had better come as well."

Face contorted with concern, Ron followed her out of the sitting room, Felix at his heels, up the stairs to the second story. She stopped outside a door, her hand resting on the handle. "I'm afraid we were not given all information sir."

Ron's perplexed eyes rounded on Gwen. "What information?" He looked back and forth between his two team members. "What are you talking about Gwen?"

She sighed heavily. "Perhaps it's better if you see for yourself, sir."

She turned the handle of the door and pushed it open, stepping back to let Ron through.

"How could you let this happen?" Roland Greene, head of the Auror division of the Ministry, was turning several shades of red, flowed by a pale green and a sickening yellow. "You're suppose to be the best, the elite. You aren't suppose to make mistakes like this. Didn't you have all the information before you went in there?"

"Please sir," Felix stepped out of formation, "it's not Captain Weasleys fault. I failed to notify him…I assumed the ministry already knew."

"We don't assume anything in this job. Captain Weasley should have known better." He turned his focus back on the tall red head. Ron stood once again with feet spread, hands clasped behind his back. "What were you thinking sending a rooky in? Recon work is saved for those with more experience. You know the protocol Weasley. You know how things work here. "

There was a reflexive tightening in Ron's jaw. "With all do respect _sir_, I did follow protocol. Blume was not the first Auror I sent to infiltrate the Blythe residence. We already lost three agents in the attempt. Blume was the only one to make it through the door and the information he passed us was invaluable. I do not regret my decision even despite recent revelations."

Some of his normal color was making its way back onto Greene's face. He stared at Ron intently, seemingly sizing him up. "I need a private word with Captain Weasley. The rest of you go finish your paper work. Blume I want a word with you when I am done with your Captain."

"Yes sir." Felix followed the rest of his comrades out of the room, closing the door behind him and the rest of his squad.

"I would prefer," Ron said in a cold even voice when he heard the door click shut, "you not speak to me like that in front of my team sir. It is hard to maintain authority when your men do not respect you."

Roland Greene rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat, threading his fingers over his stomach. "Don't give me that load of rubbish Weasley. The day your men loose respect for you is the day I take off my clothes and dance starkers through the Ministry. Look," Roland placed his hands on his desk using them as leverage to hoist himself out of his seat, "you are the best Auror I got. There's no denying that. You've done more than enough to prove to all those who said I promoted you to Captain because your Harry Potter's friend wrong. But you've let the ball slip. Because of the carelessness of you and your team we have a parentless child on our hands. How do you think the rest of the wizarding world is going to react when they learn it's our fault that innocent child has no family?"

"Her parents were headed to Azkaban, sir. She would have been left alone either way."

"The Public's not going to see it that way. They're much readier to forgive us for imprisoning the parents then causing their death. Imprisonment the blames on the parents, death the blames on us."

Ron's face slowly darkened the longer he stood there. Behind his back his fingers clutched painfully together as he curbed his desire to unleash his anger and vent his frustration on his superior. He did not take kindly to criticism, no matter where it came from. Ron took a steadying breath, "They were trying to kill me and my men-sir. Did you expect me to stand there and just let that happen?"

"Of course not."Greene flung up his hands in exasperation. "But you should have been better prepared."

Growling with frustration, Ron shoved his fingers through the bright strands of his hair. "What's done is done. I can't go back and change what happened and this conversation is getting us nowhere. Just tell me what you want done with the child."

Ron struggled not to cringe. For a moment he feared he might have gone too far and over stepped his bounds. He watched as Greene bristled with indignation, his chubby face darkening at Ron's lack of respect. "I want you, _Captain __Weasley_, to take her home."

Ron froze his eyes bugging slightly for a moment. "I beg your pardon sir?"

Greene physically relaxed, once again in his position of control. "You got the girl into the mess, you can take care of her until we get this all sorted out." Greene made his way back around the side of his desk and returned to his seat. "The press will have a field day when they catch wind of this. My hope is that sending the child with you and ordering your men to remain quite will keep this from leaking until we have made adequate accommodations for her."

Ron's mouth fell open and senseless spluttering sounds came spilling out. "But sir," he finally managed, "I can't take her. I don't know anything about babies."

Roland's eyes narrowed with annoyance. "That won't work on my Weasley. I am well aware of how many siblings you have."

"Yes but I was the second youngest. Ginny's not even a year younger than me. We were babies together."

"And what about all those nieces and nephews of yours?"

Ron grimaced with disgust. "I don't really handle them unless they're toilet trained and talking. Before that," he made a slashing motion with his hands, "I don't have anything to do with them."

"Well that's too bad." Roland Greene picked up a stack of papers and began rifling through them. "Because she's going with you."

"Isn't there any-"

"No! She's going with you. That's not a request, Weasley. That's an order."

"But sir, with my hours…"

"If I hear another word you're suspended for a week." Ron clamped his mouth shut, his blue eyes afire with fury. "Now go talk to your team, retrieve the child and go home. I'll see you in the morning."

Ron's jaw locked tight, his teeth clenching painfully together, "Yes sir." He turned stiffly and left the room, ignoring Felix's encouraging smile as he passed.

After debriefing his team and informing them of Greene's decision regarding the Blythe baby he made his way to one of the interrogation rooms where Ron's secretary, Fern McDougal, a young red head right out of Hogwarts, was tending the small child.

He paused outside the door, his hands braced on either beam of the doorway. What the hell had he managed to get himself into? Ron took a deep breath in an attempt to garnish his courage. He could handle a few days taking care of a baby. How hard could it be?

He threw open the door and was knocked back on his heels by the explosion of sound from within. Through the open door Ron could see Fern pacing back and forth, swaying gently with the baby against her shoulder, her calming words drowned out by the robust wails of the baby. Ron could just see that the baby's face was bright red, her tinny fists shook with anger as tears ran down her cheek.

"Mr Weasley!" A look of utter relief swept over Fern's face. "Thank Merlin you're here." She rushed toward him. "I think she's hungry." She tried to pass the baby to Ron only to have him step away in fear. "She won't bite." Fern assured him as she pushed the baby into his arms, steadying his hands when he looked like he might drop her. "Support her head." She helped Ron move his hand so that his fingers acted as a brace for the baby's neck. "Now all you have to do is warm up some milk in a bottle. There should be a few in that bag over there." She nodded to the bag sitting on a chair tucked underneath the table. "There's also some change of clothes, a stock of nappies and a few other things your team thought she might need. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to go. Jackson is waiting for me." Fern snatched up her belongings and dashed from the room, ignoring the pleading way Ron called her name. She felt sorry for Ron, she really did; but right now even her love of children wouldn't stop her from leaving. She was already twenty minutes late meeting one of the sexiest wizards she had ever laid eyes on.

Ron stared after his secretary, gap mouthed, the child held as far away from his body as he could manage. Her ear splitting wails grew louder as her tiny body shook with fury. Making a snap decision Ron rushed to the table and kicked out the chair holding the bag of her belongings. He tried to pick it up but found it impossible while still holding the baby. Panicking slightly when his tenth attempt to pick up the bag without dropping the baby failed he finally set her down on the table top, threw the strap over his shoulder so the sack hung at his hip, and awkwardly picked her up.

He prepared to apparate but stopped suddenly realizing that he couldn't hold the baby hard enough without hurting her to bring her along and somewhere echoing in the back of his brain he seemed to remember something about how children had been lost, left behind, or even killed if their parents tried to side-along apparate when the child was still too young. Fearing the consequences to his career if any of these three things should take place Ron decided the floo network was a better choice.

He hurried from the room and into the hall as if hell were nipping at his heels. Every few steps he would give the baby an awkward bounce and shush her which only seemed to make her cries louder.

He turned the corner at a dead run and almost ran straight into another body striding in the other direction.

A tall man with red hair and glasses jumped out of the way, straightening his stiff robes. "Ah, Ronald." He sounded almost relieved that he had almost run into Ron. "Just the person I was looking fo-for." Percy's eyes grew large at the sight of the infuriated baby. "What on earth are you doing with a child?"

Ron stepped around his brother. "I was wondering the same thing." He muttered as he continued on his way.

"Ronald, wait!" Percy had turned and was now following him at a clip pace. "Ronald, what is going on?"

"I don't have time to explain Percy. I'll see you later tonight."

"But that's just it Ronald," Percy finally caught up to him. "I won't be able to make it tonight. That's why I was looking for you. Would you mind giving mother and father my regrets."

Ron stopped so suddenly and whirled around to face Percy that in a moment of confusion Percy continued a few paces. "You're skiving off again?" He asked bitterly when Percy had turned to face him once more. "Percy." The man with the horn-rimmed glasses did not fail to hear the disappointment in his brother's voice. "You promised Mum."

Ron could see Percy's spine straighten and he brushed not existing dust from his immaculate robes. "I'm sorry, but I simply have too many obligations here at the Ministry and will not be able to get away tonight."

"That's always your excuse." Ron sneered. "You haven't made it to a single family dinner in-"

"For Merlin's sake," Percy's face grew red with annoyance. "Can't you make that child be quiet? There are people trying to work here."

Rolling his eyes Ron shifted the baby so that her face was now resting against his shoulder, her small body tucked against his chest. He sighed with relief when the new position proved to calm her, if only slightly. "You know what Perce? You can make your own excuses to Mum and Dad. I have to go."

Ron turned on his heel leaving Percy staring after him, a confused furrow to his brow.

Ron finally made it to the lifts that would carry him and the baby to the atrium where he could catch a ride on floo network. Once inside he turned back around and saw that most of the doors leading down the hall were open and the heads of several witches and wizards were staring after him.

"What?" He barked. "Haven't you heard a baby cry before?" The doors to the lift clanked nosily shut. "Why don't you all mind your own business and get back to work?"

With a sudden jerk the lift lurched into motion and they began their journey to the main floor. Ron watched the hand over the door move and settle over the different number indicating what floors there were passing. Finally they reached the main atrium and Ron burst through the lift doors as soon as the gap was big enough for him to fit through. He rushed to the nearest hearth and nudged his way to the front of the line. "Sorry. So sorry." He apologized when he nearly knocked over a little man who was hunched over and decrepit with age. "I'm so sorry." He offered again, "this is an emergency." He made it to the front of the line and somehow managed to toss some floo powder into the yello orange flames. He stepped into the bright green fire and with a desperate shout disappeared in a burst of green light.

Ron clutched the small bundle to his chest sending out a silent plea that she wouldn't slip from his grasp and become lost in some strange wizards chimney. Together they whirled though the hundreds of chimneys that made up the floo network. Moaning with disgust, Ron struggled not to move the baby away when he heard her wretch over his shoulder. For a fleeting moment the comic image of the surprised look on the unfortunate witch or wizards face when the vomit came soaring out of the fireplace distracted him from his panicky thoughts only to be replaced with the realization that the floo network was probably not the best choice of travel while carrying a newborn.

The ride couldn't have ended too soon for Ron. Finally when he felt his body begin to slow, the chimneys not spinning around him so fast, he prepared himself for the landing. The moment his feet connected with solid ground he lurched forward, stumbling in a billow of ash he had picked up along the way into the kitchen of his childhood home.

"Ronnie?" He turned to see his mother standing across the room from him, wand raised potato peals flying everywhere as they skinned themselves in the sink. She was staring at him with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"Mum," he rushed across the room. "Help me."


	2. Family News

Chapter Two: Family News

Before Ron realized what had happened he found himself standing at the wash bin, cleaning and slicing carrots before sending them into the large, slightly dented, silver pot warming on the stove. Without stopping to ask any questions Molly had taken the baby from his arms, procured a bottle, fed her, changed her, rocked her to sleep and settled her comfortably into a large bassinet she had magiced out of the air.

The baby soundly sleeping a safe distance across the room from Ron allowed him to work alongside his mother, silently preparing the stew his she had decided to make for family dinner that night. Ron could tell his mother was just itching to ask him questions about the baby and what she was doing there, but had shown an astounding amount of restraint. Every so often she would stop what she was doing, look at him for a moment and when he didn't respond, return to her proportions, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"You've gotten very good at that." Molly said as she resumed work on the potatoes.

Ron chopped a few more of the orange sticks, shrugging his left shoulder dismissively. "I don't have you cooking for me anymore and I couldn't stand another bite of those dreadful Muggle premade meals Harry goes on about. And I figured I can't eat sandwiches for the rest of my life. So I picked up a few cooking how-to books and I'm teaching myself."

"You could have come to me. I would have been more than happy to give you lessons."

"I know," Ron agreed, "but it was something I wanted to do myself."

Molly's lips twitched into a proud smile as she stifled the urge to reach out and brush her youngest son's fringe of bright red hair back off his face. He had come so far in the past five years; grown up a great deal. She couldn't help but feel pride at his accomplishments. But a part of her still missed the way he had come to her with his problems when he was a child. How she missed that look her children used to get in their eyes when she was able to fix their problems for them.

From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of the little bassinet. Maybe her Ron hadn't completely grown up yet. It almost made her laugh out loud to recall the terrified expression on his face as he sprinted across the room with that baby held out in front of him like a rabid beast that was likely to bite him if he let it get to close.

"Well," she patted his hand affectionately, "you keep at it and you'll be a better cook than me."

Ron snorted with laughter as he sliced through the last of the carrots "Never. Not even the Hogwarts House Elves cook as good as you."

Molly blushed crimson. "Go on with you." She waved away his compliment with her hand but he could tell she was quite pleased.

Potatoes finished Molly started on the beef which she chopped into bite sized morsels. "Now that you've had your go at buttering me up, why don't you ask me what you want to ask me?"

Ron startled slightly but hid it well. "I never said I wanted to ask you anything?"

"I wasn't born yesterday Ronald. I did raise six other children besides you. _Better than the Hogwarts House Elves?_ Please. If that's not a sure sign you want something…"

"But that bit is true. You cook better than anyone I know and I know all the House Elves."

Molly made a strange sound halfway between pleasure and disbelief. Done with the carrots Ron turned to the bowl of peapods. A flick of his wrists had the small green shells hovering in the air, splitting open at their seams and dropping the small orbs into the pot with the rest of the stew. Periodically Ron would glance at his mother, waiting anxiously for the moment she would lose her patience with him and demand answers.

Making a point not to look at either Ron or the bassinet where the small baby slept, Molly continued with her work adding the last of the beef before moving to her spice cupboard. The air was suddenly filled with the savory fragrance of different spices as the bottles and containers flew off the shelves, tipped sideways and shook their fine powder over the stew.

Growing more uncomfortable and leery the longer his mother remained silent Ron finally set down his wand, perhaps a little harder than necessary, and turned to face his mother. "Why haven't you asked me about her?" Ron nodded toward the sleeping child. "I can tell you want to?"

The spices halted in their midair dance. Molly turned tentatively, looking Ron in his bright blue eyes, "I wasn't certain you could. I assumed she had to do with your job at the Ministry."

"Really?" Ron's brows furrowed in surprise. "Why?"

"Because she doesn't belong to any of your friends, I know all those children. And I also know _I _would be asked to watch any one of them before you would."

"Excuse me?"

"Come now Ronnie," Molly chortled. "It's no secret you're terrified of babies. The first time Fleur tried to hand you Barron you ran from the room like You-Know-Who was at your heels. I don't think you even held him until he was almost two. It's only recently that you've started holding Sirius James and he's your godson. Like I said, I think it's safe to say you're terrified of children."

"I'm not scared of 'em." He said shortly, glancing over at the baby, than quickly away trying to hide the pained look in his eyes. "I just don't have much use of them."

"That may be. But the point remains you would never willingly take care of baby. Knowing that about you, I suspect the only way that you would was if you were forced to. And the only way you would be forced to would be if it was work related. Couple that with the knowledge that you can't always tell me the details of your assignments, I reckoned you would tell me what you could. Since you haven't said _anything_ to me I assumed this was one of those times and one of those cases."

Ron stood there a moment unmoving, astounded that his mother understood that much about him. Of course she couldn't know the real reason that he avoided babies, but she was very astute. He would give her that. He had thought he had hidden his aversion to babies particularly well. Apparently he was wrong. And chances were that if his mother noticed that meant Ginny and the twins undoubtedly had as well and with those three aware it couldn't have been long until everyone in the family had been made aware as well.

Ron lowered his head, his face flushing with shame. He hated that his entire family thought him terrified of babies. It was bad enough they were all aware of his spider phobia, he didn't need to give them, or anyone else for that matter, something else to chock up against him. But the truth was he would rather they continue to think him scared of babies than to know the truth.

For the briefest moment he closed his eyes and imagined himself holding a small baby in his own overlarge hands. He could see everything from the spray of freckles across the baby's cheeks and pert little nose. The tuft of soft red hair at the top of its heads, and the little lips; the bottom one slightly larger than the top. And when the baby opened its eyes it would have… No. Ron shook his head to clear it. That ship had sailed a long time ago.

"Do you remember that case I was working on?" He asked. The last of the peas shucked he turned and leaned his hip against the counter top. "You know, with that couple who's been aiding Death Eaters by giving them money and helping them escape when we've gotten too close to taking them in?"

"Yes." Molly nodded. "As I recall you've been having trouble infiltrating."

"We have been." Ron nodded with agreement. "But we got our break about eighteen months ago. One of our agents was able to infiltrate the house by posing, convincingly, as a Pure-blood who was down on his luck because of the muggle-borns and there 'new lease on life' after the war. He was able to get a _job_ from them, which basically means they were paying him to hang around their house and do nothing all day. And because he had access to almost the entire house he was able to pass us invaluable information. Through him we were able to gather enough hard evidence to build a case on them but we kept him in there watching them in case anything new cropped up or they found out we were onto them and tried to make a run for it. Today, however, his position was compromised. Felix Blume has never yet failed to meet me for our weekly check-ins and debriefings. After four hours of not hearing word from him I knew it was time to go in there after him."

"He's all right, isn't he? He's such a sweet boy. I…"

"Don't worry Mum." He patted her arm. "Felix is fine. I think Timothy Blythe was waiting for us to arrive so he could try and take us all down with him."

"And let me guess," Molly nodded toward the bassinet, "That little girl belonged to him."

"Felix assumed we knew they had a kid and we never bothered to find out if they did. Greene is blaming me for the lack of communication and because of that he decided that she's my responsibility until the Ministry decides what to do with her."

"Poor dear." Molly wiped her hands clean on her apron as she moved toward the bassinet. Tenderly she reached in and tucked the blanket more securely around her.

"That is exactly the sentiment we are trying to avoid which is why we hope to keep her situation quiet until a decision has been made. Her case will be taken care of much quicker if we don't have to worry about public opinion on top of everything else. Not to mention Greene's concern of how her parents death will make the Ministry look. I don't think he wants the Ministry to gain a reputation of making orphans. We've worked too hard since the fall of You-Know-Who, he doesn't want there to be a step backwards."

"How long do you think she's going to be with you?"

Ron shrugged. "Right now your guess is about as good as mine. If she weren't involved this case would be over in a week. There would be a hearing to decide if the Blythe's death could have been avoided, and then there would have been a hearing to decide what to do with their estate. We still have to do both of those but now we also have to take her into account when deciding the estate and there will be another hearing to decide who will be her guardian. To be perfectly honest she's proving to be far more trouble than what she's worth."

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly whirled on her son, hands planted firmly on her hips. "How could you say that? She's a poor innocent babe."

"She's the child of a Death Eater."

"And I suppose that's her fault as well? Everything else seems to be."

"Mum-"

"Ronald, need I remind you that you've know plenty of people who wound up with different views than the families there were born into? Your best friend is a prime example. How Harry turned out as sweet as he did with relatives like he has I'll never know. But the point is being born into a certain family doesn't carve your destiny out in stone."

"But Harry's different. His parents were killed by You-Know-Who."

"And her parents were killed by the Ministry. Hopefully she doesn't bear that against it in the future. All I'm trying to say is that you can't write her off for lost now when you have no idea what she will grow up to be."

"Fine. She might not be a Death Eater in training, yet. But…"

"Ronald-"

"But," he said again, "The truth of the matter is that I am in no position to take care of anyone else. I can barely take care of myself. My house is a mess. My cooking…well it's getting better but it's still not good. And as you so aptly pointed out I know nothing about babies and only a fool would trust me to look after one."

Molly sighed. "I'm sorry that you trust yourself so little and question my faith in your abilities. That was never my intention. But my answer is still no."

"No?"

"No."Molly repeated. "I won't watch her for you. That child is your responsibility, not mine."

"But I didn't…"

"I'm not trying to put the blame for what happened to that babe on you. I understand, I really do. But I've raised my children. I don't mind watching my grandchildren every once in a while. But when I do I get to hug them and spoil them and then send them home to mummy and daddy who get to raise them. And you just said that you don't know how long it's going to take to get her settled in her new home and believe it or not, I'm enjoying this empty house. I get to spend more time with your father and I'm starting to remember what it was like when we first met." She turned away from Ron and took up the dough she had been letting rise all day and placed it carefully inside the stove to bake. "Besides, I think it will do you good to have to take care of someone else for a change. Now, why don't you go outside and start setting the table. You know where the dishes are."

Knowing there was nothing left to say and grumbling quite a bit, Ron took up the stack of mismatched plates and cutlery from the kitchen dresser and shuffled outside to where the long line of tables was set up in the garden. He dropped the stack in the middle of the first table before moving past it and out to the short wall on the edge of the property. He swung his legs over the stone barrier and sat with his back facing the Burrow.

He watched the sun slowly sink over the tree lined horizon, bathing the sky with ribbons of orange and red. As the sun sank lower the air around him took on a slight chill that was refreshing after the heat of the warm July weather.

Ron knew what her game was. Molly had watched her grandchildren over night or on long weekends many times. She practically begged his siblings with children to let her watch them for them. She welcomed the diversion. Ron suspected that the real reason she said no to watching the baby was her hope that if Ron had the baby around for a while it would inspire him to have a few of his own. For a moment he was tempted to go and tell her the real reason why he avoided babies, maybe than she would leave him alone about it. But he thought better of it. The real reason was something he didn't want her, or anyone else knowing.

Ignoring the sound of the garden door opening behind him Ron stretched his legs out in front of him, placing his hands on the rough stone wall and leaning back.

"I thought your mother sent you out here to set the table."

Ron looked back over his shoulder and spotted his best friend leaning against the door post his arms crossed over his chest and his right foot crossed over his left. "Hi ya, Harry."

"Ron." The raven haired man nodded his head. "Rough day at work?"

"You heard about it?"

"Ginny spotted the cradle the moment we arrived. Wouldn't leave your mum alone until she had the whole story."

Ron glanced at the watch strapped around his wrist. "You're here early aren't you?"

"Yeah well," Harry rubbed the back of his neck, "Ginny doesn't get around so well right now and she was paranoid about being late for dinner. So here we are."

Ron shook his head as he swung his legs back over the wall so that he was facing Harry. "She's got you wrapped so tight around her little finger I don't know how you breath. Honestly, I don't know if I should be happy for Ginny or sad for you. Tough place to be," Ron chuckled. "On one hand I have a sister whose husband I know will do anything for her, and on the other hand I'm wondering what happened to my best friend who was clueless when it came to girls and had a knack for making them cry when left alone with them."

"Ha ha. Very funny." Harry pointed his finger at him. "You wait until you're dealing with a pregnant wife and see how smug you are."

"Yes, but you see the difference between you and me is I would never be foolish enough to get my wife pregnant again while the last one was still on the teat."

Harry's face darkened behind his spectacles. "It's not like we were trying to make that happen, it just did."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, nodding his head. "It happened just like magic, right?"

Harry scowled at his tall best friend. "Come on Ron. Even you can do better than that."

"Yeah well," Ron used his hands to push his lanky body up from the wall. He crossed the garden to the table where he picked up the stack of plates and set them before every chair.

Harry joined Ron, taking up the cutlery and setting them beside the plates Ron put down. With the two of them working the task was quickly done and with the last place set they both pulled out a chair and sat facing the house. As they watched the windows flared with sudden flashes of green light, silently announcing the arrival of more family members. With each new arrival the din coming from inside the house grew louder, filling the evening air with the gay sound until the two men sitting outside felt that they were in the middle of it all.

"I hope you don't mind your mum telling me about the baby."

"Na," Ron rubbed his fingers roughly through his hair disheveling it thoroughly. "I'm going to have to tell everyone eventually."

Harry leaned forward in his seat, resting his chin on his twined fingers. He starred at the ground with an intense look in his eyes. Ron watched him, a sense of unease coming over him.

"Harry," he pulled his chair closer to his friend, "Is something wrong? You only get that look on your face when you have bad news."

"What?" He looked up. "No. Well…I guess it depends on how you look at it."

"How you look at what? What are you talking about?"

"Ron," Harry turned toward the redhead. "Ron…" he tried again.

"Come on then. Spit it out."

"Ron, there's something I need…"

"Harry? Ron?" Ginny appeared in the doorway, her hand resting on her very swollen stomach. "Mum wants to know if you're finished."

"Yeah," Ron rose to his feet, pausing to glance a moment at Harry who had sunk back in his chair. He narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Why don't you go tell her that we're ready out here?"

"Mum," Ginny called over her shoulder, "We're ready."

Ron rolled his eyes with annoyance. "I could have done that." He muttered.

Ginny flipped her dark curtain of hair over her shoulder. "Then why didn't you? Harry, could you come get Sirius? It's difficult to carry him with my stomach so big."

"'Course dear." Harry rose to his feet. "We'll finish talking later." He muttered to Ron out of the corner of his mouth before moving briskly toward the house.

Harry stopped to help Ginny down the two steps into the garden, giving her a quick kiss before moving into the house.

"Hello _Daddy_," Ginny waddled across the garden to the table, Ron scowling at her with every step. "How is the new father doing?"

"Fine." Ron pulled a chair out for her despite his annoyance. "You're getting huge. Get any bigger and you're likely to burst."

Instead of upsetting her like Ron thought it would Ginny beamed with pride. Her hand came to settle once again over her distended stomach. "He's going to be a Weasley." Her hand moved in a gentle circle. "Big and strong."

"It's a boy then?"

Ginny shrugged. "No idea. It's just a feeling." She lowered herself into the seat Ron had prepared, her hand set firmly over her abdomen like she could already touch the child resting there.

The back door opened again and his brothers began spilling into the yard, their wives and children in tow. "Uncle Ron!" A small child tugged his hand free of his mother's and pelted himself at Ron who bent down and scooped him up, tossing him high over head.

"Master Barron." Ron settled the three year old on his hip. "I hardly recognized you you're getting so big." He tousled the young boys unusually straight red hair until it stuck up at odds with itself. "How's about you sit next to me tonight little man?"

The little boy's grey eyes lit up with delight. He nodded his little head vigorously causing his hair to fall back where it normally lay. Laughing heartily Ron strode toward the table, lifting his nephew off his hip to set him in the chair next to where he would be sitting.

"Ronald," Molly paused in the doorway, big silver pot hovering before her. "Aren't you forgetting something?" She nodded her head toward the house.

The smile melted off of Ron's face. "What?" he said jovially. "You think she'd enjoy stew?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Don't you be smart with me. Just bring her out here so you can tend to her if she needs you."

"Right." He sighed. "Master Barron," The little boy looked up at him with adoration. "I'll be right back. You leave some food for me, all right?" The little boy nodded his head vigouriously and watched his uncle march into the house.

Ron stopped short just inside the door however when he spotted Harry standing over the bassinet, staring down at the orphan with his son sitting on his hip. There was a slight frown to his normally smiling lips and a look of sorrow in his eyes.

"Harry?"

"I was just thinking," he began to sway slightly, rocking Sirius James gently back and forth, "It's really a shame. The war is over and Voldemort is still leaving children parentless. It's just a shame you know."

Not knowing what else to say Ron clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, hopping that Harry would understand. "Hey Si," Ron forced his lips into a smile of greeting. "How's my favorite nephew?" He asked in a low voice as if trying to keep his other siblings children from hearing that they weren't his favorite. Instead of answering Sirius James stuck his thumb through his lips and latched on, resting his head on his father's shoulder. "He looks tired." Ron observed.

"He is tired." Harry confirmed. "Si's been helping me all day, haven't you mate?" The little boy nodded his head, never taking it off of Harry's shoulders. "We're moving him out of the nursery and into his own big boy room, aren't we? And guess who helped me with the painting and his mother with the moving of his toys?"

"It couldn't be Si, could it?" Ron asked with exaggerated disbelief. The little boy's lips parted into a bright smile around his thumb.

"Yep," Harry rubbed Si's back with a gentle hand. "Sirius James has been a big help to me and his mother. I think he's going to be a great big brother."

"He better be." Ron said with embroidered severity. "Or he might just get a visit from the tickle monster." Ron crooked his fingers, wiggling them menacingly as they crept closer to Sirius James's chest. The little boy squealed and snuggled into his father's arms for protection. Ron's fingers grazed Si's chest a few times, causing him to squirm and laugh with delight, but stopped with the sudden flair of the fire inside the kitchen fireplace.

Out of the hearth stepped Percy, wand already out and magicing away the dust that had accumulated on his robes during his journey through the floo network. "Perce?" Ron's mouth gapped with surprise at the sight of his older brother. "I didn't think you were going to be able to make it tonight." He said pointedly.

Percy stuffed his wand back in his pocket before straightening the collar of his robes. "I really shouldn't. But as you said I haven't made it to family dinner in some time and…"

"You were too scarred to tell mum you weren't coming yourself." Ron said, a slight smirk to his lips.

Percy's eyes narrowed slightly. "I take it everyone's in the garden so I'll just join them, shall I? Harry." He nodded his head in greeting. "I trust everything is all right with you and Ginny?"

"Fine. Everyone is fine."

"Good." Percy nodded again than swept from the room and into the garden. "Git." Ron muttered when the door closed behind him. "I don't know why mum bothers inviting him. No one wants him here anyway."

"Yeah," Harry forced a laugh. Ron watched, eyes narrowing as he shifted his weight nervously, moving Si from his right hip to his left.

"Harry, is something wrong? Did something happen that I should know about?"

"No. Not yet." Harry turned to face his friend. "Ron,"

"Ronald! Harry! Will you two hurry please?" Molly stuck her head through the door. "We have hungry children out here."

"Coming Mum."

Molly pulled the door the rest of the way open, stepping to the side and holding it wide waiting there to make certain that the two men didn't doddle. Ron fumbled with the baby in one arm and the bassinet in the other, but somehow managed to make it outside without dropping either.

The moment he stepped into the yard he wished he had called his mother and begged off tonight. It was apparent by the sudden stop in conversation that his family had been talking about him. His suspicions were further confirmed when their eyes planted on him and the baby he awkwardly carried. Percy, who had apparently been filed in on the latest, straightened in his seat and gave Ron a smug look that clearly stated '_I didn't mess up at work and find myself guardian of a Death Eater's baby.__'_

Trying best to ignore the stares of curiosity and superiority, Ron settled the bassinet behind the seat he would be taking and clumsily set the baby inside.

"Ze is very cute, Ronald." Fleur offered tentatively, as Ron lowered himself into his seat. "What is ze called?"

"Her name?" Ron blinked with surprise. He racked his brain trying to remember what Greene had said her name was, but for the life of him he couldn't remember ever being told. "I..." His eyes screwed up in concentration. "As far as I know she doesn't have one." He admitted thickly.

"That's odd." Arthur rubbed his chin. "Didn't you ask what her name was when they put her in your care?"

"Er-no. I…well that is to say…I didn't have…well you see…"

"You forgot to ask!" Fred snickered into his stew. "They hand you a baby and you forget to ask what her name is."

"Well, I'm not even sure she has one." Ron said shortly. "When we searched her room there were no books or papers, blankets with her name monogrammed onto them, nothing. So maybe I didn't forget to ask. Maybe she just doesn't have one."

"So what are you going to do?" Bill asked seriously, ladling some stew onto Fleur's platter. "Call her baby for the next couple of days?"

"With any luck she'll be off my hands tomorrow. Harry," Ron said, a stern tone to his voice that clearly said he was done discussing it, "will you pass the stew."

Taking pity on his friend, Harry quickly grabbed the pot and set it in front of Ron's platter. The tall redhead scooped three large ladles full onto his plate before scooping half a ladle onto Barron's. He cut the beef into smaller bites for his nephew before handing him back his plate. He was just lifting a spoon full of vegetables to his own lips when Percy interrupted the silence and with a superior tone asked. "What did you do anyway? Why is she with you when she could have been put with someone more- responsible?"

Ron's fingers tightened around the handles of his fork and knife. "That," he said in a cold voice, "is none of your business. Nor is anything else that has to do with that baby. And I'll ask you kindly to keep your mouth shut at work. Greene doesn't want news of her leaking to the _Prophet._"

"If that's true, you shouldn't have let yourself be seen running through the halls of the Ministry with a screaming baby. There are many rumors going around at work, I don't mind telling you. And most of them don't cast you in a very good light. In fact, there are many people saying she's yours."

"Mine?" Even those who had still been pretending to eat stopped in light of this titillating information. "What?" Ron laughed, the sound hitting somewhere between guilt ad disbelief.

"Yes. Most reckon she's the result of an affair you had with a Muggle woman. That's why she's with you, they say. The mother doesn't want to be bothered brining up a magical child. Of course I assured everyone that this couldn't _possibly_ be true. _I, _being your brother, would surely have been one of the first to know."

Harry snorted into his plate resulting in a sharp kick to the shin from Ginny.

Ron sank low in his seat, his apatite quickly vanishing the further the conversation carried. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Percy. "It's not that unbelievable."

"Come on Ron," George leaned forward in his seat. "We all know you haven't so much as looked at another bird since…ouch." George grunted with pain when his wife's elbow made sharp contact with his rib. "What I'd say?" Ashken, a pretty girl with honey colored curls and amber colored eyes George had met and married shortly after the final battle, much to Molly's delight, glared at her husband telling him with her eyes to keep his mouth shut or there would be trouble when they got home that night.

A heavy silence settled on the table as the family returned to their meals. "Uncle Ron," Barron tugged on his sleeve. "More?"

Ron glanced at Fleur who nodded that it was all right.

"For Merlin's sake," Molly said with exasperation when the table remained quiet for another five minutes. "Doesn't anyone else have any news they want to share? Anything at all?"

"I heard from Hermione yesterday." Ginny offered. Harry could feel Ron stiffen at his side.

"That's nice dear." Molly practically sighed with relief. "And what did she have to say?"

"Well," Ginny gently pried the knife Sirius James had grabbed from her plate out of his hands and set it on the other side of her place where he couldn't reach it. "She's coming home." From the corner of his eye Harry could see Ron's face draining of its color. "She found a job here at the Ministry and she's coming home in two weeks."

"That's wonderful news." Molly beamed happily. "We've seen far too little of that girl since she left. I'm sure her parents will be thrilled she's coming back to England. They must have missed her something terrible."

After trying to force down a few bits of his mother's usually delicious food in an attempt to appear unfazed by Ginny's words, Ron pushed his plate away. It had lost its flavor, tasting and feeling more like ash than vegetables and meat. "Excuse me." He pushed himself away from the table as calmly as he could. "I don't think I'm very hungry tonight."

Ron was just stepping over the garden wall into the darkened pasture when Harry caught up to him, silently falling into step at his side.

It wasn't until they arrived at the pond that Ron realized that he was headed there. Harry stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet than back onto his heels. "I tried to tell you. Twice. Before Ginny came out into the garden and before Percy arrived. I didn't want you to find out like this."

"It's fine." Ron stared fixatedly at the first glimpse of the moons reflection on the pond's surface.

"It's not fine. It's never fine when anyone mentions Hermione. You change the subject or you walk away. You act like she never existed. Like she was never one of your best friends. You haven't spoken to her in five years. Clearly, it's not fine."

"Are you done now?"

"No." Harry said irritably, his temper slowly rising. "What happened between you two? One day you're closer than I've ever seen you, the next…this all started. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Bullocks. You can't lie to me Ron Weasley. I know you to well."

"Fine." He said curtly. "Its bullocks. Now will you leave me alone?" Ron turned and began to march away through the dry brambles only to stop mid-step with Harry's next question.

"Did you ask her to stay? Did you give her any reasons why she should?"

From behind it looked like Ron's shoulders were collapsing in on him until he was a shrunken copy of himself. "No." there was a catch to his voice. "I thought…" He swallowed. "I was go-… No." He slowly shook his head. "I guess I didn't."

"Then how can you still be mad at her for leaving?"

Ron turned to look at Harry, his blue eyes pinning Harry's green in the gloom. He forced his body back into his normal, squared shouldered pose. "I'm not mad she left. I'm glad she did. I've had more than enough of that pushy, domineering, little know-it-all. I only regret that she's coming back."


	3. Little Girl

Chapter Three: Little Girl

Ron clapped a hand to his mouth, stifling the yawn that forced his lips into a wide circle. His lips chapped together noisily as he rubbed wearily at his eyes. He couldn't ever remember being this tired before in his life. Not even when he, Harry and Hermione were on the run from Death Eaters had he ever been this exhausted. He moved on sluggishly getting in the way of the other Ministry employs who were trying to get past him in a hurry to get home.

"Evening Ron." Arthur clapped his son on the back as he fell into step beside him. "How'd it go last night?'

Ron grumbled incoherently as a response.

"That well?" Arthur chuckled amusedly. "Don't worry son, it'll get better. It always does."

Ron scowled at his father from the corner of his eye like he had anyone else that day who dared to be so cheerful when he was so miserable. "It couldn't get much worse."

Arthur laughed again. "Trust me Ron, it can. Wait until she gets the croup. Then we'll talk about how bad it can get. Your mother and I didn't sleep for weeks when Fred and George had it."

"Yeah well, I don't plan on having her long enough to find out."

"Speaking of which." Arthur glanced at Ron's empty arms. "Where is she? I didn't see her with the other Ministry children."

Ron looked at his father questioningly out of the corner of his eye. "With Ginny. She's watching her while I'm at work. What did you drop in to check on her?"

"Well," a gentle blush crept over Arthur's face. "I didn't really get a chance to see her last night."

"Don't get attached Dad, I'm not keeping her."

"I know that. I just wanted ta say hello. Are you heading to Harry and Ginny's now?"

"Yeah." Ron's mouth gapped open with another yawn. "I told Gin I would come get her after work."

"Don't let me hold you up than." They had made it to the front of the apparition que. Arthur glanced uncertainly at his son. "Are you certain you're in a fine state to apparate?"

Ron threw a mild glare at his father. "I've disapparated under worse."

Arthur threw his hands up. "I was just asking, son. It's part of the father description. It doesn't matter how old your child gets, you're always worried about them. Just don't leave anything behind, all right? Your mother would have my head if she found out."

Ron snorted at the thought of his formidable mother before turning on his heel and disappearing with a pop. He reappeared again several blocks away from Number Twelve Grimmald Drive. He waited a moment hidden in the shadows to make sure he hadn't drawn unwanted attention by his sudden appearance before stepping into view. When he was certain the cost was clear he pulled off his robe and flung it over his arm so that it looked like he was merely carrying a coat. He stepped onto the sidewalk and made his way down the road to the building that Harry and Ginny had made their home out of.

He drew to a stop so that he was halfway between houses Eleven and Thirteen and waited as number Twelve began to shoulder its way into existence. It's was amazing the transformation the building had gone through under Harry and Ginny's care. Without fear of being discovered by unfriendly wizards they had been able to give the house the proper attention it needed. They spent one week alone magically scrubbing all the grime and mold from the windows and walls. They had tossed all the old Black family relics into the rubbish bin along with the Black family tree, Phineus Nigellisi's portrait and the patch of wall that Mrs. Black's portrait had been permanently adhered to. The wall was repaired, the old paper removed and a bright, fresh coat of paint had been added to all the walls. The elf heads had been removed and properly buried in the Black Family Cemetery, something Ron was sure made the Black ancestors roll in their graves over. Ginny had also switched all the old light fixtures with new ones, taking care to pick lamps that would throw light into the very corners of every room. She had also pitched or donated all the old furniture and replaced them with new pieces that had clean lines, comfortable seats and welcoming softness that just invited you to use them.

Though they had never discussed it, Ron knew that Ginny had dropped quite a few Galleons in her campaign against the old house, but it had paid off in the end. For the first time since its existence the house was dark magic free and finally a home. It was almost impossible to recognize this house as the one he remembered from his fifth year. Even the outside showed signs of Ginny's touch. All the window boxes had been repaired and filled with bright flowers Ginny had described as 'Happy'.

Ron's feet shuffled along the new cobles that made up the front walk. He was almost surprised to find the stoop empty. He half expected Ginny to be standing there with a screaming baby in hand, eager to hand her off. Ron let the shiny silver doorknocker fall against the heavy wood three times before ramming his hands into his pockets while he waited. It took several minutes but the door eventually opened to reveal a flushed and smiling Ginny. "You look like hell." She beamed as she rose onto her toes, pecking his cheek quickly before stepping back to let him into the house. "You're a bit earlier than I expected you. She's still sleeping." She closed the door softly behind Ron. "Why don't you come have a cup of tea while you wait?"

"I wouldn't turn down a splash of Brandy if you offered."

Ginny smirked knowingly. "You know you don't have to ask Ron. You're more than welcome to anything Harry has." She nodded her head toward the sitting room where her husband had installed a liquor cabinet, one of the only things he had managed to do before Ginny had moved in with him. Along with all the standard Wizard liquors were most of Harry's Muggle favorites which Ron had come to appreciate as well over the years.

"Help yourself." she invited as she moved across the room to the book she had left open and face down on her seat. She slipped a place marker between the pages before snapping the cover shut and setting it out of the way on the side table. It took her a bit of maneuvering to find a comfortable position on the sofa but had finally managed while at the liquor cabinet Ron had already tossed down a helping of Brandy and was in the process of filling his glass a second time.

"So," Ginny waited until Ron had replaced the bottle and taken a seat in the chair across from her. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing good." He took a big swallow. "It appears she has no living relatives. She comes from a long line of single children on both sides. Which means, of course, we have to dig as far back into the family's history as we can until we find some branch that had more than one child."

"What about her name? I felt ridiculous calling her _Baby_ all day."

"She doesn't have one." I swear he held up his. "It's some strange, Blythe Family tradition. Because they only have one child they want to make sure they name that child right. So they wait a few months after the baby's born to see which name best suits it. We don't really know all the details but they apparently hold a big ceremony and celebrate the naming of the child and…I don't know. I guess they hadn't settled on a name for her yet so she's still _Baby Girl Blythe_"

"You know," Ginny's brow furrowed in thought, "that's not a bad idea."

"Didn't you just say you felt ridiculous calling her _Baby_ all day long?"

"But I wouldn't be calling ours _Baby_, I'd be trying out the different names on him. Harry and I are having a bit of trouble deciding."

"Well, I still think Ron is a fine name."

Ginny rolled her eyes, the bright brown orbs twinkling with mirth. "And _I_ still say one Ron in the family is more than enough."

"Wench."

"Pratt."

The two siblings fell into comfortable silence. Ginny took a sip of the water sitting at her elbow while Ron finished off his Brandy, smacking his lips lightly with appreciation. "How was she?" he asked while setting down his empty glass. "I hope she wasn't too much of a bother."

"A bother? Her?" Ginny asked with disbelief. "That child was an angle."

"What?" Ron spluttered, his eyes bugging slightly. "She kept me up all night screaming her head off."

Ginny playfully flipped her hair over her shoulder. "She must like me better."

"Than keep her if you want too. I don't care."

"Sorry Ron. I love watching her. I'd take her if I could. But with this baby coming," she placed her hand on her swollen abdomen, "I can't have another baby in the house. That doesn't mean I mind watching her while you're at work, but she can't stay here all the time."

"Yeah," he hunched forward, his elbows braced on his knees. "I know." The two siblings fell into silence again, but it was a comfortable silence. A silence like they would have enjoyed when they were small children; the very best of friends when they had no others. In the years following Voldemort's defeat and Hermione's move to Spain, Ron had stopped thinking of Ginny as his little sister,… for the most part, and now considered her one of his best friends. He hadn't thought of her that way since he left for Hogwarts. All their childhood it had been the two of them and then suddenly it simply hadn't been. It was noting that Ron planned, but being Harry Potter's best friend had pushed other things like his relationship with his little sister to the back of his brain. It hadn't been until his sixth year when Harry and Ginny had started seeing each other that Ron had begun to question his and Ginny's friendship. Now that Harry and Gin were married and he knew her better than ever he couldn't help but admit that he was happy, not only because it meant that he and Harry were now legally brothers, but because he couldn't think of anyone better for his best friend or his little sister.

With the comfortable silence hanging over them they were both able to hear Sirius James the moment he woke up and began calling for his mother.

"Would you mind?" Ginny asked sweetly, flashing him the same hopeful smile she did as a child, the one that got him to do just about anything for her.

"Why don't you save that look for a time when you really need it?" Ron pushed to his feet and moved quickly toward the door. He bound up the stairs quickly, easily climbing two at a time with his long legs. He reached the nursery and pushed open the door ready to greet his Godson with a bright smile, but stopped when he realized upon spotting the baby in the crib that this was no longer Si's room. The walls were still the same pale blue but instead of the enchanted clouds that glided across the walls there were hundreds of tiny stars that twinkled like the real thing. The crib was still nestled in a quiet corner and rapped snuggly inside a blanket was the Blythe Baby.

Feeling somewhat drawn to her, Ron moved across the room, finding himself standing at her side leaning over the crib rails to get a better look at her. She looked almost sweet, laying there, her head turned to the side, one tiny hand clutching the blanket tight in her fist. Looking down at her sleeping so calmly Ron could almost believe that his mother was right.

Inching his way backwards out of the room, taking care not to make any noise and wake her, Ron exhaled the breath he was holding with a sigh when he had the door closed between them and she hadn't woken. He turned away from the room. Now, where had Harry said Si's new room was? Not being able to recall he moved down the hall opening the door to every room until he finally found him in the room that he and Harry had shared while staying here. A slow smile slid across his lips. Once again Ginny had done an amazing job.

It was an ideal room for any little Wizard. Like his old room the walls were painted the same bright blue with white fluffy clouds that drifted lazily across them. There were wooden goal posts on the wall over his bed and on the wall across. There was a soft Quaffle lying on the floor that could be tossed through the hoops on either set of posts. There were two enchanted Bludggers over head that bounced noiselessly and harmlessly off each other and the walls. There was also a slower moving Snitch that darted about close to the ceiling in flashes of gold and silver. The bedposts and dressers were made of the same rough wood as the hoops. The carpet was a bright green the exact shade of summer grass and the bedspread was a patchwork quilt, each square brandishing the emblem of each of Britain's professional Quidditch teams.

Instead of in his bed like Ron expected to find him, Si was standing at his toy chest which Ron recognized immediately as being modeled after the trunk that held the schools balls. "Hello Si." The little boy turned around stumbled forward into his uncle's arms. With a great swoop Ron scooped him up and tossed him into the air over his head catching him securely in his arms before tossing him up again. The little boy squealed with delight as each toss sent him higher. Ron let him drop a little further the last time and swopped him low, cradled safely in his arms so that his hair grazed the ground, before bringing him back up and settling him on his hip. "How was your nap, mate? All good and rested?" The little boy nodded his head with one big movement. "Have you been good for your mum?"

"Yeah." The little boy nodded again.

"Glad to here it." Ron pressed a kiss to his nephew's cheek as the little boy stuck his thumb into his mouth. "How's about we go down stairs and see what Mum's up too?"

The two boys made their way down the stairs to the first floor, Ron listening to the half babble incoherent sound of his godson speaking around his thumb. They reached the ground floor and Ron strode across the hall toward the sitting room. The clear sound of Ginny's voice reached him halfway across the hall brining him to a stop. He lifted a finger to his mouth "Shushhh…" Si pulled his thumb out of his mouth so that he could copy his uncle making the same sound.

"Let's see what mum and dad are talking about." They moved closer to the door, Si being as quiet and still as his little body would let him.

"I've decided that we're going to host Hermione's coming home party."

"You're mum already said she's do in."

"Yes, I know. But we have more room than mom and dad do and besides I'm going mad with nothing to do all day. I love Sirius James. I love spending all this time with him, I do. But I miss work. I need something to occupy my time and this is the perfect thing to do it. And besides those completely selfish reasons I want to. Hermione is one of my best friends and I want to make sure her coming home is perfect. Besides, I think we'll have a better chance of getting Ron to come if it's here."

"Actually," Ron said as he came around the side of the door. "Mum would have had a better chance. She has more guilt power than you do. But thanks for the warning Gin. I'll make sure to stay clear of Mum for a while. Hi ya Harry."

"Ron." Harry nodded.

"Daddy!" Si, flung himself sideways, arms outstretched toward Harry.

"Hello son," Harry took Si out of Ron's arms and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Staying for dinner?"

"No." Ron rammed his hands into his pockets. "I'm just here to pick up the baby. Besides I have some work I need to get done tonight."

"Are you sure?" Ginny struggled to her feet. "We have more than enough."

"Yes, I know that. And I appreciate the offer, but no thank you, really. There's a new recipe I've been meaning to try and I'm a little behind on my house cleaning. Hopefully if the monster sleeps tonight I can get the laundry done as well."

"Ron," Ginny's eyes flared with indignation. "Stop it. She's only a baby."

"Why do people keep telling me that? Do you all think I don't recognize one when I see it? When Sirius James was born I didn't have any trouble identifying him."

"You know, maybe if you gave her a chance you would realize that this situation you've found yourself in isn't as bad as you think it is. Merlin knows, you might even find that you like it. No wonder the poor child didn't sleep last night. Everything about you screams hatred toward her."

"I recon it's lucky for the both of us than that she's not staying with me for long."

The two siblings squared off across the room from each other, arms crossed, eyes narrowed and chins squared in a similar pose.

"See that look on Mummy's face, Si?" Harry whispered. "That's why we don't make her angry."

Ron's eyes flashed to Harry for a moment before returning to Ginny's reddened face. "I should go. Thanks for watching her Gin."

"Ron," Ginny called after his retreating back. "If you still have her on Monday you can drop her for the day."

Ron looked back over his shoulder. "Thanks. See ya later Si."

"Bye." The little boy waved his hand at his uncle, his head resting calmly on Harry's shoulder.

"Ten quid he calls tomorrow begging for help."

Ten minutes later Ron left number Twelve, baby in arm, shoulders squared and a determined gleam in his eyes. There was no way in hell he was going to let Ginny get the better of him. Begging for help by tomorrow? He wasn't a boy anymore. He was a fully grown, fully trained, _Ministry_ _E__mployed_ _Auror_. Not only that, he was Captain of the best, most discreet team the Ministry had. If the Ministry trusted to lead his team into some of the most dangerous situations the former Death Eaters could cook up, than certainly he could be trusted to take care of one small baby.

* * *

"Please. Please stop crying. I beg you." He tried making the strange shushing sound he had heard Ginny and his sisters in law make when they were trying to sooth their own children, but it only seemed to make the infant cry all the louder. "Please, little girl." He fell to his knees, bringing his face closer to her level. "Please stop crying. Don't you understand? I don't know what to do. I don't know what you want." Her little arms flailed, throwing the blankets off her body. Her eyes disappeared into thin slits of fury and her face darkened to blood red.

"What do you want?" Not knowing what else to do Ron lifted the baby out of her bed. In his head he ran over the check list his mother had given him. She couldn't be hungry, he had fed her not half an hour ago. She didn't have gas, he had taken care of that as well. He slipped a finger into her nappie and felt a slight dampness. "Is that the problem?" he reached for her bag. "Do you have a soiled bottom?" The strap of the bag slipped off the end of his finger. After fumbling for the strap a few minutes in the darkness he tried shifting the baby to one hand but quickly realized that however big his hand was it wasn't big enough to support her fully. Finally he settled her in the crook of his left arm so that she was nestled against his chest. He crouched down to retrieve the bag and when he straightened up the baby's cries faded to a whimper.

Ron looked down at the baby with surprise. "Is that what you wanted?" He set the bag down on the table he used to change her. "What are you thinking little girl?" He placed her gently on the tabletop. "I thought we agreed we would avoid each other. Don't you remember? You could stay with me as long as you left me alone? Now here you are breaking our agreement." Her bottom cleaned and covered Ron picked her up so that she was at eye level with him. "What are you doing little girl? This doesn't look like you're trying to avoid me. No it doesn't. Are you trying to break our agreement? Is that what you're doing? It's not going to work. Nope." He set her against his chest so that her head lay on his shoulder. "And just so you know, I'm not doing this because I like you. No, I'm doing this because I have to be in to work early tomorrow and I need to get some sleep. So I'll make a deal with you." He started slowly pacing the length of the room, giving a slight rock to his step. "I'll hold you until you fall asleep and you let me get about four hours, more would be great, but I'll settle for four. How does that sound? Do we have a deal? Huh? Do we little girl?"

The baby's whimpers had faded away completely until now there was only the soft draw of her shuddering breath. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest against his shoulder and the pull of the fabric against his skin where the baby clutched the soft fabric of his robes in her fist. The corner of Ron's mouth twitched slightly, "I guess I'll take that as a yes."

He moved carefully across the room, taking extra special care not to jostle the sleeping child. "This isn't so bad." He said softly, bending forward to help ease her off his shoulder and into the bassinet. "I should have tried picking you up days ago." He delicately uncurled her fingers from his robe. "Maybe Mum was right. I have no idea what I'm doing here. But we'll keep that our secret, okay? Can you imagine what the wizarding world would think if they found out I was bested by a baby? Not good I tell you. Not good at all." He laid her on her back and tucked the blankets in around her. "At least one good thing came from all this. After Mum sees how bad a job I'm doing with you she'll leave me alone about having one of my own. Yep," he straightened to his full height. "This might turn out all right. Good night little girl." He whispered before turning and slowly creeping out of the room.

Once through the door he closed it as quietly as he could before turning and collapsing against it. When the room remained silent behind him he let out the breath of air he hadn't realized he was still holding. It wasn't until he was in his office on the main floor that he allowed himself to fully relax. He collapsed with a flourish into his favorite chair. He took a moment to let the quiet of the house sweep over him and pull the stress from his body. He had almost forgot what a quiet house sounded like. This was how he liked his home to be; dark, quiet and calm.

Closing his eyes he sunk back into his chair and let his body go lax. He knew he couldn't stay there too long or he was going to fall asleep. And as comfortable as this chair was he knew he would be sore in the morning if he did. But this house, this room acted like a drug to his senses. There was nothing as calming and relaxing as being surrounded by the house and furnishing you had procured through your own sweat and blood.

When he had bought the house he had had plans of filling it, not only with objects, but with people. And not just any people, his people. His family. When he bought this house he had dreams of making it a home. But he had bitterly given up those dreams a long time ago. He now resigned himself to a life alone. It was enough having his family and their children. He didn't need anyone else. Not anymore.

He felt the tingle of the breeze wafting in through his window tickle his skin and forced himself to get up and set about cleaning and closing up the house for the night. He made his way through all the rooms on the main floor placing the appropriate alarm charms on the windows, locking the front and back doors and setting about cleaning the kitchen. Three days worth of dishes and bottles were stacked in the sink and on the counter tops. Unfinished meals had found their way into the bin and were now causing the room to smell slightly of spoiled dairy and rotting meat.

Crinkling up his nose with disgust Ron banished the contents of the bin, scouring it clean with his wand before putting it back into place. He set the proper spells to begin washing the dishes while he set tea to boil. Monitoring the process of the dishes while he worked at scrubbing the counters and the table top, the kitchen was soon finished, the dishes once again replaced in his cupboard. He was just putting away the last pan in its rack when the tea kettle whistled. He quickly pulled it off the flame, cursing himself for forgetting the sleeping child upstairs. He listened intently for a moment to see if the kettles shrill whistle had woke her up but when the house remained quiet he concluded he most have grabbed it soon enough.

He poured the water into a cup and added the leaves. He knew he could have just as easily magiced the tea into readiness but once he had started making his own tea he had discovered that he much preferred the taste of tea that had been handmade. Bringing the tea with him, he climbed the steps to his room on the top floor. He paused outside the baby's room and listened a moment before moving on. In his room he set the tea on his bedside table to steep while he readied for bed. He quickly changed into his pajama's and climbed under the covers with a manila folder. He laid the folder open on his thighs and started at the beginning going through everything the Ministry had been able to gather about the Blythes. He rifled through pictures and reports, documents on the family's past, copies of transactions s they had made from Gringotts and the Ministry. He went through the information with the trained eye of an Auror, looking for any seemingly insignificant fact or bit of information that could help him with his investigation.

By the time he had finished the last of his tea he had reached the back of the folder. He moved aside a correspondence Felix had found that took place between Timothy Blythe and Malacar Amadeus outlining the details of how exactly Timothy was going to get Amadeus out of the country, when he spotted a photo he hadn't seen yet clipped to the folder. He pulled it free of the clip and brought it into the light so he could better see.

Despite all the horrible things Ron had just read about Timothy and Vyvica Blythe and what they had done, he felt the first swell of pity for them since beginning their case. In his hand he held the only picture in existence of the small family. It must have been taken the day the baby was born. Vyvica was looking sweaty, disheveled and tired but extremely happy lying in a luxurious bed that looked like it could entirely fill Ron's bedroom. In her arms she held a red faced and slightly goopy looking baby. Despite the unattractiveness of the newly born baby, there was no mistaking the loving look in Vyvica's eyes as she gazed upon her child. Timothy was on the bed with the two of them, his arms wrapped protectively around his wife and daughter cradling them both against his body.

Ron replaced the photo in the file and was about to flip it closed when he changed his mind. He removed the picture and tossed the file aside. Rolling out of bed he padded across the room and down to the room where the baby was sleeping. He slipped inside and crept to the crib. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest while she slept for several minutes. Licking his lips he cast a sticking charm to the back of the photo before pressing it high on one of the cribs bars so that the baby could see it when she woke up. "I'm sorry." He took a steadying breath. "I'm so sorry."


	4. The Coming Home Party

Chapter Four: The Coming Home Party

In anticipation of Hermione's return home, Molly Weasley had gone all out to make sure her welcome home party was enough to persuade her never to leave England again. Because of the amount of people who had been invited the party was held outside, and Molly's fear that rain would come and ruin the party proved fruitless as the skies over head were clear and anyone who bothered to look up could see straight into the heavens.

She had worked extra hard in the kitchen, readying and preparing three days before hand, the end result being that the two tables she had had Bill and Arthur set up were groaning from the weight of it. A bonfire had been built in the field adjoining the Weasley's garden and that was where Hermione had taken refuge.

Using her wand to draw a large log closer to the fire she had taken her seat and allowed her friends to come and find her there. It wasn't that she wanted to be particularly stand offish, it was simply that after living in Spain for five years she was no longer used to English weather and a night that would have years ago been warm and balmy chilled her, despite the layers of clothing she now wore. Sensing her need Molly had stopped by several minutes ago and handed her a warm mug of tea which she gripped tightly in her cold fingers.

She had spoken to everyone there at least once already and everyone sensing her exhaustion form her day of travel was now leaving her alone to relax. Every so often someone would stop by to keep her company but they usually left within a few minutes to join one of their friends in one of the many wizarding games that were taking place in different corners of the yard. And she was all right with that. She was content to sit there within the warm embrace of the fires heat, with her mug of tea and the comforting sound of English floating on the breeze around her.

It was always one of her favorite things about coming home, being able to hear people speak English again. It had taken her awhile to grow accustomed to hearing Spanish all the time and even longer to develop an adequate grasp of the language. And even when she had she found that she still struggled. It was hard for her to find the right word to say what she wanted and she hated that her sentences had been reduced from ones of great articulation to simple structure and grammar. The longer she stayed in Madrid the more she relished listening to tourists from England or America walk past because it allowed her to hear her native tongue for a short while. She had missed fully comprehending everything a person said to her. And now when she understood everyone around her she relished in it. It was very strange though. Eeven though she knew she was in England and everyone there was speaking English, every once in a while she still whirled around, momentarily thinking that she heard someone speaking Spanish behind her.

Standing in a clump on the other side of the fire was Harry, Dean, Seamus and Neville. They had started out by exchanging some of their Hogwarts stories but had soon moved on to stories from the work place. Neville had quickly bored them with facts about some of the new plants he was working with. Under penalty of never being allowed into another Irish National Quiditch match if they repeated anything they heard, Seamus had them holding their sides with stories of some of the player's messes he was forced to clean up while Dean told them about some of the ad campaigns he was working on.

"Actually," Hermione's ears picked up on Harry's voice carrying across the fire. "Right now I haven't been training any new recruits. I've been running refreshers courses for the Aurors we already have. Ron and his team got into some trouble a few weeks back and he sent one of his Aurors to me for a refresher but most of his team decided to do the course as well. Then, for whatever reason, Greene decided that all the teams needed to go through the training again so the recruit work has been pushed off for a few weeks until we're all done with that."

"Speaking of Ron," Dean looked around the darkened yard. "Where is he? I expected to see him here tonight."

Tensing slightly, Hermione lifted her head and made her own search of the yard looking to make sure the tall redhead hadn't slipped in without her knowing.

"Don't worry. He isn't here." Puffing slight Ginny lowered herself onto the log beside Hermione.

"Who isn't here?" Hermione took a casual sip of tea as she moved over slightly to make more room.

"Ron. He's not here. And he won't be. Trust me. The only way we could have gotten him here was if his job depended on it. Mum, tried everything in her arsenal, it didn't work."

"Oh," she blew lightly on the surface of her tea. "That's a relief."

Ginny cocked her eyes at Hermione. "Is that why you've been hiding yourself back here, to avoid running into him?"

"Partly," She admitted. "But mostly because I'm really cold."

Ginny chuckled as a shiver ran up her friend's spine, causing her whole body to shake. "And here I thought it was really hot tonight. Damn it." She placed a hand to her swollen stomach. "Stop it. Can't you let me have a moment's peace? Merlin, I swear Si was an angle compared to this one. He never kicked me like this. I can't even remember him really kicking me at all. But this one. I'm going to be permanently black and blue on the inside."

"May I?" Hermione held out a hand asking Ginny's permission to place it where the baby was kicking against her stomach.

"Yeah, sure." Ginny directed her friend's hand to a spot in the middle of her stomach. Hermione's hand had been resting there for barely a second when she felt the gentle pop that was the baby's foot. "Wow." She let her hand rest more firmly on Ginny's belly. "I've never felt anything like this before. It's amazing. That's really the baby?"

"Yes," Ginny laughed. "That's really the baby. But you won't think it's so wonderful when it's you being used as a kicking bag."

"Yeah. Maybe." Hermione removed her hand and wrapped it once again around her mug. "Where is Si? I was looking forward to seeing him tonight. I have a few presents for him stashed-somewhere amongst my things."

"Ron's watching him. Actually, Ron's watching all the Weasley grandchildren. Which is why I didn't argue with him about coming to the party when he offered to watch Si. Do you know how difficult it is to find someone to watch him? Besides mum of course. Outside of the family it's impossible. We can never have an adult get together without the children. You know, I miss spending time with just my brothers. But, that's one of the prices you pay for being a parent."

Taking another sip of her tea Hermione's brows scrunched as she tried to fathom why her heart had suddenly plummeted into the pit of her stomach. She knew all along that it would take a miracle to get Ron here tonight. She knew he didn't want to see her. It was the same thing every time she came home. But for whatever reason tonight it hurt her to know that he had made certain that there would be no way of getting him to come. He couldn't possibly be unaware of the plight of his siblings in finding childcare. He had to know that none of them would turn down his offer to watch their children. And because it was allowing them a night of adult fun without the kids no one was going to bother him about not coming either. It was, she had to admit, really very clever of him.

And despite her anger and gloom over Ron's behavior towards her, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of him taking care of his little nieces and nephews. He had always been good with children…when he wanted to be. That mostly happened when he thought other people weren't looking. But she had caught him a few times. She had seen him gently rouse a first year or two who had fallen asleep on the common room sofa out of their sleep and send them up to bed. Or help one of the younger students get up into the portrait hole when their legs were too short to do it themselves. She just knew he had to be a wonderful uncle.

Spotting the knowing look on Ginny's face she set her empty mug on the ground next to the log. "When did Charlie move back?"

"Several months ago. Three…maybe four I think."

"Is he glad to be home?"

"I think so. But it might be too soon to tell. I think he likes spending all this time with the family but he really misses his dragons. I don't think he'll ever really be happy without them."

"You think he'll move back then?"

"Yeah." Ginny nodded. "Someday. When he and Cat stop having kids and they're all in Hogwarts. He and Bill were talking about that the other night at dinner. It sounded like Bill would move back to Egypt in a heartbeat if Fleur let him, but she won't." the redhead smirked. "Who would have believed after the way she behaved at Hogwarts that she would actually grow to love our country with 'ze heavy fod'. But she does. I think she likes having family so close most of all. Anyway, she loves it here and the only way she will move out of this country is if they move to France to be closer to her family, and as much as Bill loves her he is not willing to do that. So it looks like they'll be here a good long time."

"And thank God for that. Could you imagine what you're mother would do if they tried to take her grandbabies out of the country? She would go absolutely ballistic."

"You're telling me. And think, that's just Bill. Yes, the first of her sons, but still one of the six. Can you imagine what she would do if _I _tried to move out of the country? Believe me, it would not be pretty. Lucky for me I've gone and married a man determined to clean up this country one recruit at a time."

Hermione chuckled with skepticism. "Does Harry actually say that?"

"He only did once." Ginny pressed her lips together when she spotted Harry looking at her. "But that hasn't stopped me from throwing it back at him when I can."

"You know," Hermione crossed her arms playfully over her chest, "Sometimes it surprises me that Harry's stayed with you as long as he has."

"I know." Ginny said on an exaggerated sigh. "I am the most overbearing and shrewish of wives. I dare say the threat of what my brothers would do to him if he ever tried leaving me is the only thing keeping him at my side."

"Right." Hermione nudged her friend with her shoulder. "It has nothing to do with the fact that he is absolutely mad for you?" She nodded her head toward Harry whom she noticed sought out his wife every so often to make sure she was alright before returning to whatever conversation he was partaking in.

"No," Ginny smiled at her husband, savoring the way his eyes lit up when she did. "I don't think that's it at all."

The two girls laughed when, face flushing, Harry turned back to his conversation with his three former housemates.

"What about you." Ginny nudged Hermione playfully. "Is there anyone who makes your eyes light up like that?"

"No." She shook her head sadly. "No one's had that effect on me in years."

"Why ever not? You're young. Intelligent. You were beautiful even before you moved to Spain but now with your skin tanned and you hair highlighted from the sun like that you are absolutely gorgeous. Surely there must have been at least one male in Spain who found you attractive."

"Sure." Hermione shrugged. "Plenty of men asked me to dinner but it never went much farther than that."

"And why not?"

"Because." She shrugged dismissively. "I couldn't see myself having any kind of future with any of them. I knew I would eventually be moving back to England and I couldn't expect any man to follow me so I just didn't bother."

Ginny's mouth gapped open slightly. "I think that has got to be the most depressing thing I have ever heard you say."

"Why?" Hermione's voice tumbled with laughter. "I was never lonely. Beila and I would go out to the pubs together and have so much fun with the locals. We became really good friends with the barkeep at our favorite pub and he would slip us drinks on the house. He was one of the biggest flirts I ever met in my life and it was so much fun sparring with him. He never gave up even though I said no every time he asked me to dinner. And every time he asked me it became more outrageous than the last. Eventually I started saying no just too see how he would ask me the next time."

"Hermione, are you insane?"

"No," she shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Then why didn't you say yes?"

"I already explained that to you."

"Hermione, you have got to loosen up. Going out with boys is not about finding the one you want to spend the rest of your life with, it's about having fun in the process."

"How would you know that? You and Harry have been together for ages. You've practically been in love with him since you were a child. You've never had to worry about this."

"What?" Ginny's mouth dropped in shock. "Are you pulling my leg? Do you not remember the conversation we had before fourth year? You told me I had to relax around Harry and go out with other boys until he woke, pulled his head out of his arse and noticed me."

Hermione opened her mouth as if to protest but the look from Ginny stopped the words before they made it to her tongue. "I did say that, didn't I?" She propped her chin suddenly on the edge of her fist while focusing her eyes on a log buried deep within the dancing orange flames.

"Yes, you did. And I think it's more than a little hypocritical of you not to even follow your own advise, especially when we know how well it worked with me."

"But I'm not waiting for anyone to notice me."

"Right." Ginny said, the inflection in her voice making it clear she did not believe a word of it.

"If you're talking about Ron…"

"Of course I am."

"Ginny…that ship sailed a long time ago. Any feelings that I _may_ or _may not_ have felt for Ron have long passed."

"You know, I really don't understand what this feud between the two of you is all about. All it takes to set Ron off is anyone even mentioning your name. Two weeks ago at dinner when I told everyone you were coming home he couldn't have gotten away from the table fast enough."

"That's rich." Hermione's voice turned to ice. Ginny shivered, suddenly the air felt chilly around her. "He uses _me_, doesn't even say goodbye when I move to Spain and he gets angry over the sound of _my_ name?"

"Oh come off it Hermione. Ron uses everyone. Well, at least he use to. He's changed quite a bit since he joined the Aurors. I think it was really good for him. He's the only one of us to become an Auror so there was never anyone to compare himself against and because of that he never had any self esteem issues. He's doing very well."

"What about Harry? His inferiority complex has always been pretty bad where Harry's concerned. I'm surprised he actually made it through training with the _Boy-Who-Lived_. I thought he would have dropped out."

Ginny shrugged her shoulders daintily. "Maybe he would have, but Ron joined before Harry did. Didn't I tell you that?"

"No."

"I didn't? Well, I probably knew you didn't want to hear it. Anyway, Harry took a few months to just relax and not have to worry about the rest of the world before he joined. Ron took the opportunity to get his foot in the door before Harry did. I think he wanted a chance to prove himself before Harry arrived and everybody started fawning over him for being the one who stopped Voldemort. He did really well. He was the top of his class in almost every category. When Harry finally made it through training and graduated they wanted to put them together as partners but Ron wouldn't have any of it. He already had a partner and wasn't willing to change."

"Really?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "How did Harry take that?"

"Oh, he understood. He does know Ron better than any of us. Besides, Harry felt the same way about his partner. They would have had to go through training again and they both just wanted to get out there and make a difference."

"I always thought Harry and Ron weren't partners because the Ministry wouldn't allow it."

"Merlin no." Ginny laughed. "You should have seen the way the Ministry pushed them trying to get them to change their minds. It was this whole image thing they were working on. They thought it would boost morale if the two boys who saved the wizarding world from you know who were now working together to put the rest of the Death Eaters in jail. But you know them. Harry dug in even harder when he heard that, and Ron wanted even more to make a name for himself and they're both so annoyingly stubborn sometimes that the Ministry didn't stand a chance."

"And you're not annoyingly stubborn sometimes?"

"No," Ginny tossed her hair lightly. "I'm always adorably stubborn."

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes. "If you weren't pregnant right now…"

"You'd what?"

"Hex you for being obnoxious."

"And bring down the wrath of Harry on your head?"

"I'm not scared of Harry. I can take him."

Ginny took Hermione's hand and patted it indulgingly. "You keep telling yourself that."

"Keep telling herself what?"

Ginny and Hermione both looked up to see Harry standing over them.

"Where'd the boys go?" Ginny leaned over slightly to look around Harry at the now empty yard.

"Their wives came to take them away. They said to say goodnight to the both of you, by the way. And welcome home again." He nodded to Hermione. "Now what should Hermione keep telling herself?" Harry's brow cocked playfully.

Ginny smiled lovingly up at him. "That she could take you?"

Harry turned his attention back to Hermione. "You think so?" His lips spread into a cocky grin. "I could always arrange a time and place. I have access to all the training rooms at the Ministry."

"No, thank you."

"Why? Scared you'll lose?"

"No. I'm more worried about embarrassing you in front of you students."

"Thank you for your consideration."

"Anytime." Hermione smiled sweetly. She'd missed having Harry around and she hadn't really realized how much until just now. All of her visits home over the years had been so brief and a frenzy of activity as she tried to see everyone she was suppose to see that she didn't get to spend much time with just Harry, talking like they use to at school.

"Are you two ready to go?"

"Do we have too?"Ginny stuck out her bottom lip and batted her eyes pitifully.

"I suppose we could spend the night here with your parents but I don't think that would be fair to Ron. We never asked him if he would watch Si over night."

"Harry James Potter," Ginny held her hands out to Harry who helped pull her to her feet. "If Ron managed to get him to fall asleep we are not going over there to wake him up and bring him home. We'll get him in the morning."

"But what if Ron kept him up expecting us to come and get him tonight?"

"You can floo over there if you must and ask him if you want, but I think I'll just head home with Hermione and get her settled in."

"And how do you plan on getting there?"

"The same way we got here. Through the floo. Honestly Harry, I have used the floo before."

"Yes, but you're pregnant and…"

"I used it when I was pregnant with Si, and my mum did when she was pregnant with all of us. I'll be fine. Honestly you worry too much."

"I just don't want you getting caught up a chimney."

"And you following behind me will stop that how?"

"If you're not on the other side by the time I get though I know I have got to go looking for you."

"And Hermione will be following right behind me. I think she's capable of managing that. Good lord," Ginny pushed Harry toward the house. "Go have a drink with Ron. After watching all those kids he'll need it."

"But-"

"Go," She ordered. "Before I lose my patience with you."

"Alright," Harry gave in. "I'll see you at home."

Ginny rocked up onto her toes to press a kiss to Harry's cheek. "Give Ron and the baby my love."

"Will do." Ginny watched Harry walk away, her head tilted to the side. "I never get tired of looking at that." She said when he disappeared into the house. She turned to face Hermione who had gotten to her feet, her empty tea mug in hand. "I'd be content to watch his backside all day."

"That's sick."

"What?" Ginny laughed. "He's my husband."

"And he's my best friend."

"That's not my problem." She held out her elbow, "Shall we?"

Hermione looped her arm through Ginny's and together they walked back to the house. "Gin," she ventured when they were a few steps from the back door. "Who had a baby?"

"What?"

"You told Harry to give Ron and the baby love. Who had a baby?"

Ginny stopped, uncurled her arm from around Hermione's and turned to face her. "Ron." Her lips twitched slightly. Hermione's face had remained mostly expressionless, all except for her eyes. She could see in Hermione's eyes that the idea bothered her though she doubted her friend would ever acknowledge the reason why. "Ron has one." She crossed her arms over the top of her belly. "Does that bother you?"

"No." Hermione snapped quickly. "Why would it? I just didn't realize? I mean, you never said Ron was married."

"He's not."

Hermione's eyes grew larger and her mouth gapped slightly. "You're mother can't be alright with that."

"Actually, Mum doesn't mind at all. She thinks it's quite brilliant really. She thinks it's taken too long for Ron to have a baby as it is."

"I…I…uhh." Not knowing what to say she turned and walked up the steps into the house.

"Hermione dear," Molly called happily at the sight of her. "Are you leaving already?"

"I'm afraid so Mrs. Weasley." She carried her mug to the wash bin and rinsed it out before leaving it with the other dishes to be cleaned. "Would you like me to stay and help? I would hate to leave this mess all for you."

"Don't you worry, dear." She took Hermione's hand and gave it a gentle pat. "I'll have this place cleaned in no time. Besides, you look like you could do with a good night's sleep. You look absolutely exhausted. I wanted to wait until next weekend to throw this party for you but unfortunately this was the only night that worked with the rest of the family's schedules."

"Don't worry Mrs. Weasley. I had a wonderful time. Really."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Are you ready Hermione?" Ginny was waiting at the fireplace with the flowerpot of Floo powder in hand.

"Yes." She strode across the room and took the pot from Ginny's hands. "You go first. I would rather not test my theory on dueling with Harry because I didn't go after you."

Ginny huffed with annoyance. "Honestly." She took a pinch of powder and threw it into the flames. "Just so you know, I'm only going first because I'm too tired to argue." She stepped into the fire and called out her destination. In a flash of green light she was gone and the fire returned to its normal state of yellow gold.

"Thank you again, Mrs. Weasley."

"I'll have none of that. You're practically family, dear. I'll expect you to come and visit me regularly now that you're home. I've missed having you around."

"I would love to."

"Good girl. Now be away with you before you collapse on my kitchen floor."

"Goodnight Mrs. Weasley."

"Good night Hermione." The fire flamed green again and in a whoosh of warm air Hermione was gone.


	5. Gossip at the Ministry

Chapter Five: Gossip at the Ministry

"I need those forms by Friday so that I can work on them over the weekend. Also, could you contact Solar Whitte on the Third floor and ask him his opinion on the Birch case. After that I need…"

Hermione jumped back abruptly as a door was thrust open in front of her cutting off her path and forcing her to stop immediately or lose the pile of papers clutched in her arms. "Damon finally managed to get the Goblins to let him have a look around the family vault." A man with hair a few shades lighter than black stepped out from behind the door. "They had to promise that all they would be looking for or confiscating was documentation the Blythes might have stored there. I sent Stone to help him bring what he finds to the Ministry. It should be in your office by the end of the day."

"Excellent. Good work, Parker."

The door swung closed and standing suddenly before her was Ron Weasley, red hair, pale skin, blue eyes and all. Hermione's heart jumped to her throat as she stood frozen to the spot. Her mind seemed to come to a screaming halt; unsure if she should march up to him in the middle of the Ministry and give him a piece of her mind, ignore his presences and continue on her way or run to the nearest lou and empty her stomach in the toilet, a prospect which she felt extremely inclined to do. She would have recognized that voice even without seeing him there and she was mortified that it left her standing frozen, unable to make a decision.

"Ms. Granger?" Ramilda Vane tugged at her boss's sleeve in concern. "Ms. Granger, are you alright?" At the sound of her name Ron slowly began to turn, prompting Parker Gale to do so as well. His eyes landed on Hermione and a cold sliver crept into the blue orbs, darkening them to midnight as his chin stiffened. Without bothering to acknowledge her he turned back around and walked away taking Parker with him. Hermione watched him enter the office at the end of the hall and sit on the edge of the desk with his tall back to her, while his partner took a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk.

"Ms. Granger?" Ramilda asked tentatively."

"What?" She forced her eyes to leave Ron and focus on her assistant.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." She restlessly smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her robes. "Where was I?"

"Wasn't that Ron Weasley?" Ramilda asked, her face a mask of confusion.

Hermione's own chin began to stiffen. "Yes. It was. Like I was saying, talk to Birch and than…"

"He's really filled out since Hogwarts, hasn't he?"

"I wouldn't know." Hermione said, her voice laced with annoyance. "Now, the Denbore Files…"

"You were really good friends with him in school, weren't you? I always saw you with him and Harry Potter. Didn't you help them vanquish Voldemort?"

"What has that got to do with work or the Donbore Files?"

"Well, nothing." She admitted. "But honestly, Hermione; no one around here talks about work _all_ the time." Ramilda had stepped to the side so that she could see down the hallway without interference. "Did you here about him and his kid?"

"No. But I don't think…"

"Honestly?" Ramilda asked in surprise. "Everyone around here's been talking about it for weeks. But than again you weren't here when it happened, were you? I recon its old news now, but still, we don't get many baby drop offs here at the ministry, especially not from Muggle women."

"What _are _you talking about?"

"Ronald _Weasley_." She said in a hushed voice. "It's the saddest thing." Ramilda stepped closer to Hermione, taking a quick look around to make sure there was no one there to overhear. "Apparently he fell for this Muggle woman, I think he met her at a Muggle pub. Anyway, the story is that when she found out that he was a wizard, she dropped him flat. Didn't want to have anything to do with our kind. Tore his heart out while she was at it. He hasn't been seen with anyone since it happened. Well, it looks like when she left him she took a little _something_ with her, if you know what I mean, and when she found out the baby was Maggical too she dropped it off here at the Ministry. Now, I wasn't fortunate enough to see this, but apparently when he got the baby he was running through the halls like a madman trying to get the hell out of here before anyone found out about it. Well, it might 've worked only the baby was screaming her head off and drawing the attention of the entire Ministry."

Hermione stared at the younger girl a moment, her eyes scrunched in disbelief. "You're talking about Ron Weasley?"

"Yep."

"The man who was just standing here? In this hallway? With us."

Ramilda rolled her eyes. "Yes. Ronald Weasley. For goodness sake, I know who he is. Everybody around here does. And that was even before the baby arrived."

Brows furrowed, Hermione turned and resumed her journey down the corridor. "That doesn't sound like Ron." She murmured to herself. "Do you know if his mothers heard this rumor?"

"Why would I know that? You're the one who's friends with him and his family." The two women turned off the main corridor and into a smaller passage. "You wouldn't happen to know what his type is, would you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you know what type of woman he's in to? Mot of the girls around here are dying to know."

"_Ms. Vane_." Hermione snapped curtly. "This is hardly an appropriate discussion to be having at work and I would greatly appreciate it if you never brought it up again. Now, the Denbore Files. I want two copies made of everything. Have them bound and delivered to me in my office by half two." Hermione handed over half the stacks of paper she was carrying. "When you're finished with these tasks I have a few more I would like you to take care of."

Sensing that she had overstepped her bounds, Ramilda accepted the papers quietly. "Yes Ms. Granger."

Turning briskly on her heal Hermione left Ramilda and continued on to her office, concentrating fully on keeping her anger in check. Ramilda Vane was just as obnoxious and noisy as she had been at Hogwarts. She thrust open the door to her office and slammed it closed behind her. She banged the stack of papers down on her desk. With hands planted on her hips she strode briskly back and forth between the two ends of her office attempting to work off some of her unfounded anger. She knew it wasn't Ramilda Vane's fault she was angry, though she would have felt a lot better is she could blame it on the girls gossiping, but it would have been a lie and Hermione did not abide by lying. Ramilda had merely fed the fire that was already smoldering in her gut. She was angry at Ron for, well, for everything. But the person she was really angry with was herself. First for the reaction she had when she saw Ron in the hallway and secondly for the way she had wanted to defend him and curse Ramilda for the lies she was almost certain the girl was repeating. Most rumors were utter rubbish after all weren't they? And this one was one of the worst she had heard yet.

But she couldn't completely discredit the girl. Ginny had said at her welcome home party that Ron had a baby. How could she forget? It was a thought that was constantly on her mind despite her efforts to keep it out. And what if what Ramilda said was true? All of it? She had no way of knowing. She couldn't just come out and ask any of the Weasleys, not even Ginny. How would one go about broaching that particular topic? Plus, she had ceased worrying about Ron and his reputation long ago and asking about the rumors was all but saying that she hadn't. Ginny had already insinuated that she was still harboring feelings for Ron and Hermione wouldn't give her anymore credence for that particular belief.

Feeling exhausted Hermione collapsed into her seat. Leaning forward she folded her fingers together and rested her elbows on the desk. She closed her eyes and rested her brow against her knuckles, rubbing her thumbs back and forth against her eyes. There was a soft knock at her door. "Come in Harry." She called without looking up.

The door creaked as it opened. "How did you know it was me?"

Hermione sighed as she looked up, letting her hands fall gracefully to the table top. "You're the only person I know who knocks in that pattern."

"Really?" Harry's brow arched with interest. "I had no idea." He dropped a paper sack on her desk as he took the seat across from her. "Ginny sent lunch for you. She seemed to think you wouldn't stop to take it unless I brought it here and watched you eat it."

"I don't need a Nanny."

"Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Than I think Ginny's assumption wasn't far off." He nudged the bag toward Hermione and waited for her to take it and open it up before he continued. "You don't look so great. What happened?"

Hermione stopped momentarily with her hand stuffed inside the brown sack. "I saw Ron." She pulled out a sandwich, an apple, a plastic sack of carrots and a bottle of soda that Harry like to keep around the house. "I almost ran into him in fact."

"Ah." Harry nodded. "That would explain it." He watched Hermione unwrap her sandwich and bite off a corner. "I'm surprised this is the first you've seen him in the week and a half you've been working. The Ministry's not that big."

"Yes, well…" She took another bite. "It's no secret he's doing his best to avoid me now is it. Is he even aware that Ginny is hurt that he stopped bringing the baby for her to watch?"

Harry shrugged. "He has his reasons."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"I don't know them."

"Please." Hermione set down her sandwich to open her soda.

"I'm his best friend Hermione, not his diary. He doesn't share everything with me."

Hermione stopped with the bottle lifted halfway to her lips. "So you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Nothing." she smiled reassuringly. "It doesn't matter." She took a greedy gulp from the bottle before setting it aside. "I'm going flat hunting after work."

"There's no hurry."

"I know there isn't." Hermione agreed. "And I really appreciate you letting me stay with you, but… I want my own place. I want to unpack my books and furniture and I want to paint my walls. I love doing that you know. You should have seen my flat in Madrid. Finding the right color for a room is like finding the right word to end an essay. When you find it its exhilarating."

"Not quite the analogy I would have used, but I get the point." Harry stole a carrot and popped it in his mouth. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No." Hermione shook her head. "You go home and spend time with your family. And keep your wife off her feet. There's no need for her to work like she does when magic will work just as well."

"Did I just here right? Did miss 'Always use the Muggle way when possible' encourage the use of magic for common house hold chores?"

"Well you won't clean the house and Gin won't let it get dirty, thank God, so yes, she should be using magic."

"Hermione," Harry leaned forward in his chair, "Let me fill you in on something that you might not be aware of. My wife is terrifying when she is pregnant."

"Excuse me?"

"Not all the time." Harry assured. "And I'm the usually the only one to see it. But when Ginny is pregnant she wants things done a certain way and gets very upset when they're not. When she's pregnant _nothing_ is ever clean enough and_ I_ don't know how to do it right. So we learned with Si that it was better if I didn't even attempt to do any cleaning because Ginny would have to redo it anyway and would only work herself up over it in the process so that by the time she was done she would take it out on me, usually with a well placed hex. I love my wife, and I wouldn't change anything about her, but I know when not to interfere. And house cleaning is one of those times. After the baby's born things will return to normal and I'll start housecleaning again, but until than I'll stay out of her way."

Hermione sighed heavily as she took a large bite of her sandwich.

"What?"

Hermione met his eyes and he saw a trace of sadness there. "Nothing."

"Hermione…"

"Honestly, it's nothing. I just…I want what you have."

"A pregnant wife?"

"No." Hermione laughed looking away. "I want someone who loves me like you love Ginny. Someone who knows me well enough to anticipate my needs like you do hers."

"Hey," Harry reached across the desk and patted her hand. "You'll find someone."

"Yeah, but I want it now. I always thought I'd me married by now and at the very least expecting my first child. And seeing you and Ginny together, the way that you are…it makes me realize how much I really want what you two have."

"Hermione, I've known Ginny since she was eleven years old. Even if you met Mr. Right tomorrow it would still take you years to get to where we are."

"I know." She agreed. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting it."

"Well, I know a Weasley who's always in search of a good, highly organized, very talented witch to be his girlfriend."

"Harry…"

"Percy." Harry smiled cheekily. "Who did you think I was talking about?"

"I think it's time you get back to work Harry Potter. You know where the door is."

Harry rose easily to his feet. Can I trust you to finish your lunch without my supervision?"

"Yes Daddy." She said sardonically.

"All right than. I'll tell your mother you won't be in until dinner."

"Thanks Harry." Hermione nodded. "That sounds good."

"Have fun flat shopping." he said as he closed the door.

* * *

"So what was that about?" Parker followed Ron into his office and closed the door behind him.

"What was what about?" Ron asked picking up a file that had been left for him in the working area of his desk. He flipped open the cover and found Damon's notes neatly written inside.

"That girl in the hallway?"

Ron looked up from the page he was reading, "Which girl exactly?"

Parker frowned at his old partner. "You know which one I'm talking about."

"She's just a girl I knew at Hogwarts."

"Wait. Didn't…Granger? That was _Hermione_ Granger?" Parker took the sideward twitch of Ron's lips to mean yes. "She doesn't look anything like I remember."

Sighing, Ron sank into his chair. "That's what five years in Spain will do to a person."

"No kidding? She looks gorgeous."

"Hmm." Ron set down the file. "When will the actual documents get here? I want to look over them myself."

"Don't you trust Damon and Stone?"

"Of course I do. But this isn't just a case anymore, it's a little more personal than that."

"Ron…"

"I don't care how many people see a document before I do; I'm going to look over it myself."

"What exactly are you looking for?"

Ron sighed, folding his hand over the file. "I'm looking for anyone who might possibly have a claim on that little girl."

"It sounds like a lot of extra work for a kid you never wanted."

Ron grunted. "Yeah well, she's grown on me."

"So I gathered. Never thought I'd see the day but I'm not afraid to tell you I'm glad I did."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Ron, we've been friends for a while now, so despite the fact that you're my superior, I'm going to be blunt with you. You need to lighten up. You've been about the job and proving yourself since I met you. And I'm okay with that. We do important work, and I'm glad you're as focused as you are. You've saved my sorry arse more than once because of it. But Ron, you never have any fun. How many girls have I tried to introduce you to over the past five years? Huh? How many have you actually met? Yeah," he said when Ron didn't answer, "That's not a good ratio. You've done it Ron. You've proved yourself. You rose fast through the ranks. You're there. As far as your career goes your next step is Greene's job and until he retires there's nothing more you can do. So why don't you go out and have some fun?"

"I go out."

"Spending time with Potter and your sister don't count."

"I'm happy with my life as it is. I'm not looking to start any new relationships."

"Bloody hell Ron. Who ever she was, it was five years ago. Get over it, mate."

"I am _over it_."

"The facts say otherwise."

Ron's fingers tightened around the page he was holding, crumpling it slightly. "Don't you have a job you should be doing?"

"And there you go resorting to anger, a sure sign that I've said something you don't like. Look, I might not have been friends with you as long as Harry Potter has, but there is a reason why we work so well as a team. Because you and I, we understand each other. So before you try lying to me again, remember that I can see through it and it won't work. I'd consider myself a poor partner if I didn't."

"Well," Ron unfolded his hands and leaned back in his chair. "Now that you have that off your chest, are there any updates on the Allan murders?"

"No sir. Banning hasn't turned in his daily report as of yet. Nor have I heard from Mathews or Jones. Winston is set to arrive in," he glanced at his watch, "ten minutes with a full report on the Bakers. And Williams and Schue have been in the office all day catching up on paper work."

"And Blume?"

"Called in for another meeting with the Board."

"Damn it." Ron slammed a fist on the arm of his chair. "Can't they just leave the boy alone? There's nothing that he could have done differently. Greene and I are both satisfied with his work and have reprimanded him, what more do they want?"

"To make sure it doesn't happen again."

"So why haven't they called me. It was as much my fault as it was his."

"They don't see it that way."

"Well I do!" Ron slammed his hand down on the table before he pushed to his feet and began pacing the length of his office. "There's a little girl living with me right now because I was too careless. I've always demanded a certain standard of diligence and thoroughness and I let that standard slip and she's the one who suffered. It isn't me. She's the one who's going to suffer for the rest of her life. Where's my reprimand? Where's my punishment for allowing this to happen to her?"

"I thought her staying with you was your punishment."

Ron came to a stop beside his magiced window and stared out at the artificial landscape beyond. "It might have started out that way but it stopped being a punishment a few weeks ago."

"Did it?" Parker asked. "It sounds to me like it's eating you up inside. It sounds to me like the knowledge that she'll be an orphan for the rest of her life is going to bother you more than it will ever bother her."

"No." Ron shook his head thinking of Harry. "Kids never get over loosing their parents, no matter how young they were when they lost them or how old they grow to be."

"She isn't Harry."

Ron finally turned away from the window to look at his friend. "In this case she might as well be. It's going to affect her the same way it affected him."

"She's going to have a crazed Dark Lord coming after her?"

Ron scowled in annoyance at his cheek. "No. She's going to miss having parents. She's going to resent the fact that they were taken away from her and that she won't have a single memory of them. She'll miss all the holidays they never had and all the birthdays they never celebrated together. When it comes time for her to go to Hogwarts she'll want to know what her parents were like. What house they were from. Did they play Quidditch? Were they particularly good at any form of magic? There is nobody to give her those answers. We took away those memories and we can't give them back. That's how it's going to affect her. The same way it affected Harry. I watched him go through that first hand and I don't want the same for her. I would give anything to give those memories back, but I can't. So you're right. I am obsessed with her case. But I don't know how not to be."

"Jesus Christ Ron," Parker stared at him with sudden understanding. "You haven't opened up to me like that since we first started training. You can't keep all that pent up inside you. You can't concentrate with all that going on in your head."

"I know. It's one of the reasons I've been so stressed lately. I need to close this case. I need to move on. But I can't do that until her situation is settled. Which is why I will thoroughly look over every scrap of information we gather so that we don't miss anything. I don't want some mystery person coming back to bite us in the arse some years down the line because they have a claim to her."

* * *

A Note From the Author:

* * *

It's been a while since I've done one of these, so forgive me if I ramble a little bit. I know that I haven't expressed my appreciation to you in hard copy in the last four chapters. And I'm sorry for that. For those of you who reviewed, I hope you got my responses. Your reviews honestly mean so much to me. They spur me on to keep writing and working when I'm not particularly motivated and I really take everything you say to heart. One of the main reasons I do this is that I want to become a better writer and getting valuable feedback from you, good or bad, makes all the difference in the world. Oh, side note. I know I have terrible spelling. I work on really hard but I just miss it. So please forgive me on that. To everyone else, thank you so much for reading my story. It's honestly the greatest thrill for me to know that there are people out there who appreciate what I do. You are the reason that I keep on doing this, even though the seventh book is long over now. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will try my best to get up the next one as quickly as I can. Some of you know I wasn't planning on getting this up so soon, but I grew tired of working on my Thesis and I took a little break that lasted quite a bit longer than it should have. I tell you this so that if you don't hear from me in a while it isn't because I've abandoned my story, it's because I'm working on my Thesis. Anyway, happy reading and hopefully I'll see you all next chapter. Noterwomann 


	6. Playing With Fire

Chapter Six: Playing With Fire

Sitting in a Muggle café two blocks away from the Ministry, Hermione read over the Denbore Files as she took a bite from the corner of her sandwich. She sat with her right leg crossed over the left at the knee and her right foot bouncing lightly as she read. Her eyes scanned over the page quickly and narrowed slightly at a point of interest. Without losing focus she reached for her shoulder bag and dug inside for a pen or pencil.

"Here," Slightly startled Hermione glanced up to find a pen directly in front of her eyes. "I assume this is what you're looking for."

Hermione followed the hand holding the pen up the arm to the shoulder and from there to the owners face and was surprised to find it was the same man she had seen several days ago talking to Ron in the Ministry.

"Errr…thank you." She took the pen and made a quick note on the page before handing it back.

"No." He curled her fingerers around it. "You keep it."

"Oh." Hermione's leg slipped off her knee and her foot landed on the floor with a loud thud. "Thank you." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she set the pen down next to her plate.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" Without waiting for her response he pulled out the other chair at her table and sat down.

"Sure." She flipped the Denbore Files closed. "Why don't you make yourself welcome?"

A cocky grin spread across his lips. "You're annoyed with me."

Hermione found herself trying not to grin back. "Yes I am. A bit."

"I _am_ sorry to bother you Ms Granger. Actually, that's only partly true. I've been looking for a chance to speak with you for the past few days. I was hoping to run into you again at work, but you never seem to be around. This was the first chance I had to speak with you and I felt I couldn't pass up the opportunity, even if it meant disturbing your lunch."

Hermione silently stared at him for several minutes. Everything about him exuded confidence, and though she hated to admit it, charm. He also had an adorable, quirky sort of handsomeness to him that she found quite appealing.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Sorry?"

"You're name? You know my name, it's only right that I learn yours."

The man extended his hand across the table. "Parker Gale."

"Mr Gale." Hermione took his hand.

"Please." He held onto her fingers when she made to release. "Call me Parker. Mr Gale was my father."

"Parker." She nodded her head.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

Immediately crossing her arms over her chest, Hermione leaned back in her chair and narrowed her eyes on him, the brown orbs critically taking him in. "So why is it you were so adamant on speaking with me Parker?"

He leaned forward so that his elbows were on the table. "You're very beautiful."

Hermione's skin instantly darkened several shades. "Pardon me?"

"I said, you're very beautiful."

"And you're very blunt."

Parker chuckled with amusement. "You're right Ms Granger. I am blunt. I don't see any reason not to be. And, when I make my mind up to do something I go for it all the way and I don't stop until I get what I want. That is why I am here disturbing your lunch break. You see Ms Granger, I have plans for you."

"You're very presumptuous as well, aren't you?"

Parker laughed out loud as he motioned the waiter over to the table. "Perhaps. But I promise Ms Granger, you'll like what I have planned for you." He turned his focus away from Hermione when the waiter arrived long enough to order an Earl Grey and a cranberry scone.

"And what kind of plans do you have for me?" She couldn't stop herself from asking when they were once again alone.

"First diner. Friday night. Let's say about seven?"

Hermione stared at him for several minutes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "No." she shook her head slowly. "I don't think so."

"Lunch?"

She shook her head again. "No."

"Have a boyfriend?"

"No." She laughed.

"Do you want one?"

Her voice rang with both surprise and amusement. "You really are incredibly blunt, aren't you?"

"I did warn you."

"Yes," She agreed, "you did."

"And I meant what I said. I don't give up until I get what I want."

"That's fine." She leaned back in her seat. "We can play this game. I'm use to it. And I'll warn you now, I'm very good."

"I'm counting on it." He nodded at the waiter when he set his tea and scone on the table. "I enjoy a challenge."

"Is that what this is about?" she asked, taking up her sandwich. "The challenge?"

"No." he set down his tea after taking a sip. "I already told you. I have plans for you."

"Are you aware that that sounds more than a little…well creepy."

"I'm sorry Ms Granger." He laughed. "I promise that was not my intent."

"And what exactly is your intent?"

"Right now…just to get to know you better."

"It seems to me that you already know me a great deal better than I know you."

"If you have questions feel free to ask them."

"All right." She used her paper napkin to dab at her lips. "What is it that you do for the Ministry?"

"I'm an Auror, which you no doubt already know. I'm second in command of the Alpha Squad under Captain Ronald Weasley."

Hermione snorted loudly while rolling her eyes.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"No. I believe you. It's not that." Parker stared at her, brows raised, until she continued. "It's the idea that someone was foolish enough to make Ron Weasley the Captain of _any _Auror squad let alone the Alphas.

The smile instantly disappeared from Parker's face. He set down his scone and straightened in his seat. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and his eyes narrowed into a glare. "Excuse me Ma'am, I'll have to ask you not to speak ill of my partner or my captain. Ron Weasley is a good man and I am proud to serve the Ministry under him."

"And that is anther very good reason not to have dinner with you. I wouldn't want to do anything that might hinder your career."

"Wait, wait, wait." He took hold of her wrist when she made to get up. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Why would are having dinner together affect my career?"

"Please don't insult my intelligence, Mr Gale. If you're partners with Ron Weasley like you say than you can hardly be unaware of the animosity that exists between the two of us. And as such, aligning yourself to me in anyway might prove problematic if Ronald Weasley finds out."

Parker's mouth gapped slightly in astonishment. "Do you honestly believe _Captain_ Weasley would let his personal feelings affect our working relationship?"

"Look. I've known Ron Weasley since we were eleven years old. I've seen him run through the gambit of emotions. I've seen him handle, first hand, several sensitive situations. Ron Weasley might be one of the most loyal people I have ever met in my life, but I also know that when he feels betrayed in any way, he will cut that person out of his life, no questions asked. And he's one of the most stubbornly, infuriatingly impossible people I have ever met. Once you've crossed that line with him, it takes something desperate to get back over. Fourth year someone put Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire and it took him almost being killed by a dragon for Ron to forgive him. And that's not the only time that's happened. I've seen it all before."

"If you've been friends with him since you were eleven years old, how come he never talks about you? How come I've never even heard him mention your name?" Parker watched Hermione stiffen in her seat. "It's because you're the other one aren't you? You betrayed him and he hasn't forgiven you."

"I never betrayed him." Hermione snapped, tears welling in her eyes. "If anything he betrayed me." She whispered, almost like she forgot Parker was sitting there. "He used me." She pressed her lips tight together to keep them from trembling. "It's getting late. I had better go."

"Ms Granger…"

"It was nice to meet you Mr Gale." She stuffed the Denbore Files into her shoulder bag, left money on the table to pay for her meal, and tossed the bag over her shoulder. "Good day."

Parker rose to his feet, intent on going after her to apologized but stopped after a few steps and watched her disappear down the street. True this meeting had not gone exactly as he wished but it was a start in the right direction. He had got her talking to him. Parker retook his seat and slowly sipped at his tea, a smile turning up the corner of his lips.

* * *

"Hermione?" Harry knocked gently at her door. "Hermione, are you coming down for diner?"

Sitting stiffly on the foot of her bed, she tried to swallow past the lump that was restricting the movement of air through her throat. "Not just yet." Her voice slightly cracked. "I'll be down later."

"Do you want us to wait for you?"

"No." she shook her head, her breath passing though her lips in heavy puffs. "You go ahead. I'm not really hungry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's been a very long day."

"Well, all right. If you're sure?"

Hermione nodded again, her eyes closed. "Yes. Don't worry about me."

Harry stood a moment outside her door with his hand resting on it. "Sometimes you make it really hard not to."

Inside her room Hermione clutched her head in her hands. The conversation she'd had with Parker Gale kept running through her brain, causing her stomach to coil into consecutively tighter knots. Slowly she lifted her head and stared at the empty grate in front of her. She had been so excited to come home to England but that was gone now. All that was left was the unexpected desire to return to Spain. Life was so much simpler there. She had been so free. She had her job, a few close friends, and a life free of men So unlike here. Here she was bogged down with complications from her past and things that had been left unsaid for too long.

And what if Parker Gale was right? She closed her eyes in misery. She and Ron hadn't been friends for over five years. What the hell did she know about him anymore? She knew Ginny said he had changed but she also knew that Ginny still harbored the hope that she and Ron would work through their problems and become the couple she had always hoped they would be. But Parker Gale had nothing to gain from telling her how wonderful Ron was. She'd already turned down dinner with him. And besides that, what could he possible gain by mending their friendship? If a relationship with her was what he sought, getting her to forgive Ron Weasley was the wrong way to go about it. It was all just too confusing and made her tired brain thump heavily with pain.

She needed to talk to someone desperately, but Ginny was out of the question. She was already so frazzled with preparation for the baby that she couldn't bother her with the pettiness of her personal problems, not to mention it was Ginny's favorite brother who was at the heart of most of them. And she couldn't talk to Harry. She couldn't and wouldn't put him between her and Ron if she could help it. She had already done enough of that already. And he was a boy, and no matter how much she loved him and treasured him as a friend, she couldn't talk to him about personal trouble like this. It would only be awkward for the both of them and it would't help any. What she needed was to talk to another girl. What she needed was Beila.

Making up her mind, Hermione slid off the end of the bed and onto her knees. She crawled to the fireplace, pulling her wand out of her pocket. She threw a quick fire into the grate before tossing in some Floo Powder she had stored in a cookie jar near by. She stuck her head into the fire and waited a moment as she grew accustomed to the sensation of the warm blaze licking at her skin. "Calle de Atocha numero 62." And with an ear defining whoosh she felt her head leave her body and begin the long, tumbling journey on its way toward its destination. Her head came to a stop suddenly and bobbed gently on the tips of the waiting flames. "Hola. ¿Quién está allí?"

"Beila?"

"Hermione?" A young woman with dark, curly hair entered the small living room, a hair brush in hand, her face done up to go out. "Mio, what are you doing here?"

"This is a bad time?"

"Never." Beila collapsed onto her knees in front of her fireplace. "Mio, I have missed you."

"I'm sorry Bea. I've been so busy with work and flat hunting and catching up with family and friends that I haven't had time to Floo you."

"It is nothing. I understand. Do not worry about me. Mio," Beila's face scrunched in concern, "What is the matter? You look…troubled."

"Bea…I just want to come home." Hermione's voice cracked.

"You are home."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I want to come home to Spain."

"Mio, what has happened? You could not wait to go back to England."

"It's him."

"_Him _him?"

Hermione nodded.

"What has he done this time?"

"He…well I…He's done nothing. I'm just so confused."

"Mio…"

"What if I've been wrong?"

"That is not possible."

"But you haven't seen him. Everybody here loves him. He seems so different than I remember. What if I've tricked myself into believing the worst about him because it was easier then dealing with the truth?"

"Do you really think that is true?"

"Well…"

"The answer is no, Mio. Do you remember how sad you were when you first came to Spain? I never saw anyone as sad as you. That boy hurt you. Do not let anyone make you forget that. Do not let him hurt you again. Do you understand?"

"SÍ." Hermione said meekly, ducking her head to avoid her friend's eyes.

Beila sighed as she shifted off her knees and sat on the floor with her legs crossed. "I miss you, Mio. Work is very dull without you."

Hermione snorted slightly with reluctant laughter. "You would say that even if you were having the time of your life."

"No." The dark haired woman shook her head vigorously. "It is true. I have no one to talk to."

Hermione snorted again. "There are at least five partners and nearly twenty associates at the firm. I'm sure if you looked you could find someone to speak with."

Beila rolled her eyes. "Men old enough to be my father and boys immature enough to be my youngest brother. Women desperate to reach the top and conniving enough to stab me in the back to get there. That is what I work with now."

"It was the same while I was there."

"Yes. But you are normal. I can talk with you."

"Just give it time." Hermione said reassuringly. "You'll find someone you'll like even better than me."

Beila shook her head. "No. I will never have a friend as great as you."

"Thanks Bea." Hermione smiled. "It's nice to hear someone say that."

Beila returned Hermione's smile. "How are your friends? Has the baby come? What is it?"

"Harry and Ginny are fine. Ginny's gone a bit mental with all her cleaning, but she's happy. Their son, Sirius James, is wonderful. I've never met a sweeter child. They still have two weeks until the baby comes and they don't want to know what it is. They're arguing over names but they won't tell anyone what names they are arguing over, which I admit is a bit maddening. And so are my co workers. You think you have it bad." Her voice rose slightly to emphasize, "I've got the biggest gossip at the Ministry for my assistant. She's constantly chattering on about everything I don't want to know. Sometimes I think the only way I am ever going to get any work done is if I hex her into silence. Not to mention the fact that _he _works at the Ministry so there's the constant threat I'm going to run into him like I quite literally almost did the other day. And his partner! God lord, I have never met a man so…so…self righteous, ignorant and presumptuous all at the same time. He had the gall to tell me that he had plans for me and then practically demanded I go out to dinner with him. And then to top it all off he told me that _I _don't know Ron Weasley. Just because he's been partners with him for the past five years he thinks he knows everything."

"What did you say?"

"What do you mean what did I say?"

"When this man asked you to dinner, what did you say?"

"No of course."

"Why?" Beila gazed at her with bewilderment.

"Were you not listening to what I just said?"

"Of course I was. But what does his opinion of Ron Weasley have to do with your going to dinner with him?"

"Bea. They're partners. That means their good friends. How could I go to dinner with someone whose friends with him?"

"You are still friends with Harry and Ginny. You are living with them."

"That's different."

"No." She shook her head. "It is not. Perhaps he has changed."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying that this is just another reason you have in your long line of reasons to turn down a man who asks you to dinner."

"What?" Hermione shook her head. "That's ridicules."

"Is it? I think Ron Weasley hurt you so bad that you are scared to let any man close because you fear it will happen again. And because you are scared you are alone and you will stay alone until you confront him and get the answers you need."

"I can't do that."

"Why? Because you are scared? Did you not tell me you were a Griffimore and that Griffimores were brave?"

"Gryffindor. And I'm not scared. I've never been afraid of him. I just can't talk to him."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't think he'll talk to me." Hermione lowered her face, letting her hair fall forward to hide her eyes. "Parker Gale, the man who asked me to dinner, he said that Ron hasn't mentioned me in all the five years they've known each other. Harry says Ron changes the subject or leaves the room whenever I come up. The other day when I bumped into him at work he glared at me like a piece of dung on his shoe before he turned and walked away. He didn't say a word."

"So you force him to listen."

Hermione released a huff of air. "I tried to make him pay attention and listen to me for seven years while were in school. It didn't work. Do you think he will start listening now when he hates me like he does?"

"Then you have two options." She ticked up a finger. "You keep trying until he does. Or you forget about him and let it go."

"That's it?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Keep trying or let it go?

"That's it." Beila agreed.

"That's no help at all. Why do I even bother listening to you?"

"Because, how did you say it? Oh yes. I am the sound of reason when you are…crazy. And you are the sound of reason when I am."

The corner of Hermione's lip twitched up in a half smile. "I did say that, didn't I?"

"You did."

"I have to confront him?"

"You do."

"I can Floo you anytime I want?"

"Anytime you want."


	7. Baby's First Magic

Hello everyone. It's me again. I just wanted to thank all you who reviewed for me again. I honestly wasn't planning on turning out another chapter so soon but after some of the responses I got I was inspired and I couldn't stop despite myself. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far. I know it's frustrating when I don't update regularly but I do my best. Thanks again and Happy Reading.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Baby's First Magic

Ron's eyes focused on the nib of the quill, his eyes moving in and out of focus the longer he stared. Slowly he began to roll the quill between his fingers and watched as the feather blurred together as it spun. Taking a deep breath he redipped the tip in the inkwell and prepared to set it to paper. It touched for a second before he pulled it away, leaving a dark stain. He hadn't realized how hard this was actually going to be. Once he signed his name it would be final. Just a few strokes of the quill and the entire ordeal with the Blythe baby would be over.

"Mr Weasley." The door opened and Fern stepped through the gap. "It's almost ending time. Do you have those documents ready to go out?"

"What?" Ron dropped the quill as he scooped up the papers, tapping them on end so that they settled into a neat pile.

"You said you had some papers you wanted me to deliver before I went home tonight. Are you done with them?"

"Actually, why don't I just take care of it?"

"Are you sure? I'd be more than happy to stay…"

"No, no." Ron set the stack on the side of his desk. "You go home. I have to pick the baby up from the nursery and Resourcing and the International Law Office are both on the way. There's no point on you making the trip when I have to head in that direction anyway."

"Are you sure?" Her face scrunched in concern. "Papers have to be dropped at Resourcing and I know you have family dinner tonight."

"Don't worry about me Fern. I know how to handle myself. Besides my mum will forgive me a lot easier for being late because of Ollie than Jackson will you."

The barest hint of color swept becomingly across her cheeks. "Thank you Mr Weasley."

"Have a nice evening Fern."

"You as well, Mr Weasley."

Ron watched the door close. The second he heard the latch click into place he pulled out the stack of papers he had been working on before Fern had come in and not allowing time for his nerves to get the better of him he took up his quill and quickly signed his name at the bottom of the page. That done Ron sighed with relief as he felt the heavy weight he had been carrying on his back for the past month(?) ease away. It was done now. Just a few more formalities and his life would be so much less complicated.

Ron glanced at his watch and jerked forward in his seat. He had better get moving. He had a few more errands he needed to run before he picked up the baby. He quickly sorted the stack of papers on his desk into four piles. Those he could leave until tomorrow, ones that he had finished with and that needed to be filed, the packets for Resourcing and the International Law Office and those that he needed to bring home with him that evening. Ron summoned his shoulder bag from its hook across the room and quickly slipped the appropriate files inside. Patting himself down to make sure he had everything he needed Ron moved to the door and cast a strong locking charm before leaving the office behind. He stopped to say goodbye to the few members of his squad still in the office as he moved through the cubicles and made his way toward the lifts. Ron waited patiently for the lift to stop at his floor and climbed inside the empty compartment and rode it to the sixth floor where the Resourcing Office was located. He stepped off when he reached the correct floor and moved to the right, stopping in front of the solid wood door with the name plaque reading Olaf Hamlin charmed to the door.

Sighing heavily Ron lifted his hand to rap at the door. Olaf Hamlin was one of the nicest men ever to work at the Ministry. He had worked for Resourcing for the past fifty odd years and made it his business to befriend everyone who came into his office. Ron had first met the old man when he had come to work with his father as a smile child and remembered liking him. He had allowed Ron to choose a sweet from his stash in the bottom drawer of his desk. And when Ron had arrived at his office door nearly twenty years later, Ollie had recognized him instantly.

Ron glanced at his watch again. If he knew Ollie, which he did, he could expect to be in there for a half hour if the old man had his way. Unfortunately Ron didn't have the time for a full out chat tonight. Perhaps if he played his cards right he could be in and out in twenty.

Ron knocked briskly on the door before opening it and stepping inside. "Ollie." Ron said in his most conversational voice. "I've got some papers for you."

"Ron Weasley." The old man struggled a moment to get to his feet. Knowing Ollie would resent his offer of help Ron remained where he was and waited for him to find his feet. "How are you my boy?" He hurried around his desk and took Ron's hand. "Come in. Come in." He motioned Ron to the spare seat across the desk from his. "Take a seat."

"Actually Ollie. I'm in a bit of a hurry so I can't stay long. Family dinner tonight and everything."

"Of course. Of course." He sank into his seat and folded his hands over his stomach. "You'll be seeing your father tonight I suppose. Good man, Arthur. You'll send him my greetings won't you?"

"As always."

"Good boy. Good boy. What's Arthur up to these days? Keeping busy I hope."

"Yes sir, Dad's just got his hands on a Muggle computer. He's spent the past week taking it apart and is currently trying to put it back together."

"Is he having trouble?"

"Doesn't he always? It's driving Mum spare. I heard she threatened to burn the shed down earlier this week if he didn't come out for dinner."

Ollie slapped his knee with laughter. "Your mother is a treasure, I tell you. A real treasure. Sometimes I don't know how she puts up with your father."

Ron shrugged, "Me either." Ron reached into his bag. "Anyway," he pulled out a stack of papers. "These should all be in order. If you have any questions you know how to get a hold of me."

"That I do." Ollie struggled to his feet again and took the documents from Ron and set them on a growing stack that always sat on the end of his desk. "My Bernie came to see me last night."

Ron forced his face to remain pleasantly neutral. "Did you? How is she?"

"She's fine. She's fine. A little tired. Healer training takes a lot out of her, but she enjoys it. She likes looking after people."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "I remember you mentioning that."

"You could use someone looking after you Ron. In my opinion every man should have a woman to look after him. Between you and me, we men get more careless as we get older."

"I think I'll be fine looking after myself."

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure you will. But it's also nice to have someone to look after as well. Having someone to look after fills that empty space in your heart. Yes it does."

The slight annoyance Ron had been feeling melted away at the reappearance of sorrow in the old man's eyes. "Are you doing all right, Ollie?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine." He tried to force his lips into a smile. "My children come every few days to keep me company and to help clean up the house."

"Do they bring the grandkids with?"

"It's the only reason I let them through the door. I might be getting older but I can still take care of my own house. I don't need their help."

"I never doubted it. I just think they like doing it for you. You and Mary did a fine job raising them and now they want to return the favor by taking care of you."

"Well," he admitted begrudgingly, "I might grumble when they come around, and don't you tell them this, but I got it perfect. I get to play with my grandchildren while my children clean my house. It doesn't get much better."

"No." Ron agreed with a laugh. "I'm sure it doesn't."

"You understand what I'm saying, don't you? Wouldn't you rather be spending time with that baby of yours over cleaning?"

"Yes sir, I would. But I also can't stand to have a dirty house and I don't have anyone to do the cleaning for me. So I guess I got to do it myself."

"If you wanted I could have Bernie come over and take care of that for you."

"That's all right Ollie. I don't mind cleaning when it's my own house."

"You sure? It would be no trouble I assure you."

"Nope," he shook his head. "I can do it myself. Look Ollie," Ron glanced at his watch, "I would love to stay and chat, but I still got another stop to make before I leave."

"Of course. Of course. You're a busy man." Ollie led Ron to the door. "You hurry on home now and give another thought to what I said."

"Good night, Ollie." Ron said as he slid through the door and closed it behind him. Sighing heavily he turned and made his way to the lifts. He was a few steps away when the golden gates began to slide closed and he jumped inside just in time to miss having them close around him. He rocked forward on to the balls of his feet and back onto his heals as he waited patiently for the elevator to travel the two floors to his next destination. "Finally." He muttered as the lift slowed to a stop and he jumped through the doors as soon as they were wide enough for him to fit.

Quickening his step, Ron bound down the hall, nodding at the people he recognized and offering greetings to the people he knew. Reaching the end of the hall he turned right down one of the side corridor and smiled when he recognized Parker's form sitting in the International Law Office on the corner of one of the desks.

"Parker."Ron walked into the room and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "What are you still doing here?" He asked while his partner spun around, still sitting on the corner of the desk, to face him.

"I could ask the same about you. It's Thursday night and I know you have family dinner. I would have thought you'd have left by now."

"I had to make a stop in Ollie's office to drop off a few files."

"Ahh…" Parker nodded. "Say no more. How is the old man?"

"He's doing all right I think. He misses Mary…but"

"What else can you expect?"

"Exactly. He tried to get me to meet Bernie again."

Parker shook his head a broad smile on his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest. "That man doesn't give up, does he?"

"Apparently not."

"So why don't you just meet her and get it over with. If it doesn't work out he'll leave you alone and if it does you couldn't ask for a better father-in-law."

"Not interested."

"It was only a suggestion." Parker kicked his legs forward giving himself the momentum to rock off the desk and onto his feet and in doing so revealing the woman who had remained hidden behind his back. Hermione sat frozen in the chair her fingers gripping the arms of her chair so tight her knuckles were white. Her mouth was open as if arrested in mid speech and her eyes were wide with something that looked like fear. "Ron!"

Ron's chin stiffened. "Parker," he wrapped his hand around his partners arm, "can I speak with you a moment? In the hall?" he asked through gritted teeth as he pulled him out of the room. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Parker pried Ron's fingers from around his arm. "What does it look like? I'm talking to a pretty girl. You might try doing the same."

"Hermione? You're chatting up Hermione?"

"Na." Ron's stance remained stiff. He didn't like the twinkle lingering in his partner's eye. "She's already turned me down. Some nonsense about not wanting a boyfriend. Do you know what I say to that? Bullocks. Every girl wants a boyfriend."

"Not her." Ron nodded his head toward Hermione's office. "Trust me. Save yourself the effort and steer clear of her. She's not worth it."

"That's too bad, because I think she's great. Besides," He turned so that he could see her through the doorway. "She can't resist me forever." Inside her office Hermione was keeping herself busy by straightening papers and rearranging the contents of her desk. She kept her eyes lowered but he could see how she glanced up at them every so often. "She pretends she's not interested. Try's really hard not to laugh at my jokes, but she always smiles. We had a great time at lunch the other day. You should have seen the sparks flying." A mesmeric smile slid across his lips. "She's one hell of a spitfire, there's no doubt about that."

"Really?" Ron's eyes narrowed. "I think she's a big pain in the arse."

"It's just her spirit getting the better of her. There's a lot of passion hidden inside that tight, little body of hers. I bet she'll be amazing in bed."

"Excuse me?" A vain throbbed at ron's temple while hot blood rushed to his face.

"Don't worry. I haven't shagged her. Not yet. And don't give me that look. That's not what I'm looking for either." He interrupted when Ron opened his mouth. "You know me better than that. I'm interested in getting to know her as a person. But I'd have to be a blind, impotent old tool not to imagine what it would like to get to know her that well." Parker leaned close to Ron. "Don't tell her I told you all that. I don't recon she'd appreciate knowing I think about her lying naked in my bed."

"No worries there." Ron jammed his hand roughly inside his shoulder bag. "Here, hand these off for me." he pulled out a thick stack of parchment. "I still have to go pick up the baby." He thrust the papers into Parker's hands before turning and marching stifly away.

"Not to worry." Parker called after him. "I'll see that she gets it. Say hello to your family for me."

Parker watched Ron's retreating back until it disappeared around the corner. Laughing audaciously he reentered the office and held the documents out to Hermione. "Here. Ron left a present for you."

Hermione rose to her feet. "Where did he go?" she accepted the stack. "I was hoping to speak with him."

"He had to leave. I think he's late picking up the baby."

"Oh." Hermione caught her lip between her teeth as she tugged on a strand of hair that escaped the high knot she wore it in. "He didn't look very happy."

"He's not." Parker plopped down on the edge of her desk once again. "So where were we?"

Watching the door reluctantly Hermione lowered herself into her seat and crossed her right leg over her left, her robes splitting open in the middle to reveal her leg to the knee. "Well," she slowly wound the lock of hair around her finger, "I had just finished saying that after how our last meeting ended it was probably best if we simply cut our losses and left it at that and then you were trying to convince me that it wasn't as bad as I remembered and to please give you another chance."

"That's right." He popped his fingers. "I remember now. So how about it?"

"I think my answer still has to be no."

"Are you sure?"

"Did you not see Ron's face when he saw me?"

"That?" Parker waved his hand dismissively. "Forget about it. He's just stressed. Come on Ms Granger, I'd really like to know you better." Her face contorted with indecision and a hint of exasperation. "I'll have to come back tomorrow and ask again."

"Are you going to make this a daily habit?"

"Not every day. I'm not desperate. But maybe every other."

Hermione shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her lips. "You can be terribly obnoxious sometimes, did you know that."

"If you agree to have dinner with me I won't be anymore."

"I don't believe you."

"No it's true. I promise. After one meal with me you'll be begging for me to take you out again."

Hermione sighed softly. "Good night, Parker."

"So its Parker again is it?" He hopped off the desk and offered her a hand up.

Hermione allowed him to pull her to her feet. "You did say Mr Gale was your father."

He held tight to her hand. "Does this mean you've forgiven me?"

"Let's just say that I agree to disagree."

"I'll take it." He lifted her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips. "Have a pleasant evening Ms Granger."

"You too Parker."

* * *

"Ottery St. Catch Pole." Ron held tight to the baby and pressed his feet firm to the ground as the Knight Bus came to a sharp and sudden stop. He looked down at the baby cradled securely in his makeshift sling and sighed when he found her still asleep. Moving as smoothly as he could, Ron rose to his feet and stepped off the bus taking care not to jostle the sleeping child. As soon as he was a safe distance away the bus started moving and with a loud bang it jumped to its next destination.

The baby jerked and blinked awake from the noise, her dark purple eyes blinking up at him. "Sorry little girl." He apologized. "I tried." Her mouth gapped open in a yawn and her lips chapped several times but the she didn't cry. Instead she found her mouth with her hand ad sucked contently at her knuckle. Ron chuckled softly as he brushed the soft tuff of black hair off her brow. "I'm so glad you like me." Her eyes darted up to him when he spoke. "It makes my life so much easier." The baby pulled her hand from her mouth and chattered back at him her eyes following his face as her body swayed while he walked. Ron chuckled. "You are such a magpie. You're going to drive me crazy with all this chatter. Yes you are." He snuck his fingers under her arm and wiggled them around causing her tiny body to shake with laughter. Ron pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I think I like having you around. What do you think?" The Burrow came into view ahead of him. "Do you like staying with me?" He bounced her playfully. "Huh little girl? Do you?" She made a raspberry sound with her lips causing Ron to laugh. "I think I'll take that as a yes."

Ron continued on his way while the baby chattered incessantly, playing with the clasp of his cloak or the knot of the makeshift sling. "Here we are." Ron untied the knot holding the sling together when he reached the front door, lifting her and cradling her close to his body freeing one arm. "All right, are you ready?" she popped her lips. "Me too." He knocked on the door. Almost instantly it was flung open.

"Ronnie!" Molly reached through the door and hulled him inside. "I was wondering when you would be getting here."

"Sorry mum." He let her take the baby out of his arms. "I thought it'd be better to feed her before we came so I wouldn't have to deal with it during dinner and we had a little mishap with exploding milk."

Molly's face brightened instantaneously. "Her first magic?"

"Yep." Ron beamed. "I was trying to get the last of the groceries put away and she was crying and I didn't get to her fast enough and the top of the bottle flew off. Threw milk everywhere. Had to give her and the entire room a through scrub down."

Molly was busy pressing hundreds of kisses to the baby's lean cheek. "That wasn't very nice of you to do sweetheart. Giving daddy all that extra work." She smoothed back the soft locks of her hair. "But I thoroughly approve of the way you went about doing it. I wish I could have been there to see it. I was there for all of the first accidental magics of you and your siblings. Oh well, perhaps I'll be there for the next one. Come on you two, dinners ready. Maybe if we're lucky your daddy will let you sit with your Grams tonight. Would you like that sweetheart?"

Molly pushed open the door to the kitchen and Ron followed her through, "Look who I found at the front door." There was a chorus of hellos from his family. "Come along everyone, now that we're all here we can eat." And Molly began to shoo them toward the back door.

"Harry," Ron called to his best friend. "Percy's not coming tonight?" He asked when his friend arrived at his side.

"Err…no. Molly said he had some official dinner or something he couldn't get out of."

"I doubt he tried very hard."

Harry looked at his friend with puzzlement. "Are you disappointed?"

"I was just hoping the whole family would be here tonight."

"Really? Well at least there will be more room around the table."

The two men followed the pack of redheads as they squeezed through the door. Once through they stepped to the side and let their family settle into place. Sometimes it was easier to just let everyone else find their seats before they tried to find a place for themselves.

With a tender smile on his lips Ron watched Molly talk candidly to the baby as she swayed smoothly back and forth, nestling the baby gently in her warm arms.

"Your mum really loves that baby. It's going to kill her when you have to give her up."

"Yes, it would. If there was a chance in hell that was going to happen."

"What?" Harry slowly turned to face Ron.

"I have some papers I would like you to go through. Greene thinks it'll look good to have your recommendation as part of my application. He said he'll give me his as well, but he thinks, all things considering, it would be better to have as many people with influence at the Ministry as possible indorsing my application."

"Your application for what?"

Ron's lips twitched at the corner. "Adoption."

"You're going to adopt her?" Harry dropped his voice so that his voice wouldn't carry to the rest of the family.

Ron no longer tried to hide his smile. "Greene called me into his office on Monday to tell me they had closed her case and that someone would be coming to my house later in the week to take her away. I told him that would happen only over my dead body."

"Wait a minute." Harry stepped in front of Ron blocking his view of Molly and the baby. "I thought you were trying to find a family member to send her home with."

"Not bloody likely." Ron snorted.

"Then why have you been acting like a mental case going through her family history?"

"Because I decided weeks ago there was no way in hell I was giving up that little girl without a fight. I went through those documents to make sure no one could show up somewhere down the line with a claim to her and try and take her away from me."

"I had no idea."

"No one did."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up in case it didn't work out. Especially my mum's."

Harry turned his head to face Molly. "She's going to be so happy when you tell her."

"I was hoping to tell everyone tonight. That's the only real reason why I wanted Percy here. I wanted him to find out with the rest of the family."

"You could wait and tell everyone later." Harry suggested.

"Could you keep it a secret from Ginny?"

"No." Harry laughed. "She'd be able to tell right away that I was trying to keep something from her. And right now I need to keep her calm for the baby's sake."

"Then maybe we shouldn't tell her."

"Are you kidding? Throw me a bone here Ron. Give her anything but a clean house to obsess about for a while."

"Are you willing to indorse me?"

"Ron, you should know you didn't even have to ask."

"Thanks, mate." Ron clasped his hand and squeezed it firmly. "I appreciate it."

"Don't even think on it. That's my nice we're talking about."

"Yeah." Ron smiled. "It is."

"What are you two still doing standing there?" Molly asked sideling up to them. "The food's getting cold."

"Sorry Mum." Ron turned his smile on his mother. "We were just talking Ministry business."

"There'll be time for that later. Come on, you too Harry."

"Mum," Ron held out his hands. "Can I have my daughter please?"

"Ronnie…" her eyes widened when she spotted the knowing smirk on his face. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

Ron lifted the baby out of his mother's arms before kissing her cheek. "Maybe."

Molly pressed a hand to her cheek for a moment before turning with a hop. "Ronnie!" she hurried after him. "You can't say something like that to me than walk away. It just isn't done. Ronnie!"

"Umm." Ron pulled out a seat and sat down, setting the baby on his lap so that she was cradled against his chest. "Everything smells wonderful. You've outdone yourself Mum, like always." Will someone pass the chicken please? I'm starving."

"But…"

Harry put a hand on Molly's shoulder. "Why don't you sit down Molly and enjoy the fine meal you've made?"

"But…"

"Trust me." He too pressed a kiss to her cheek before leading her to her seat and pulling it out for her to sit down.

"You're a good boy Harry." She patted his cheek. "I'm so glad you're a part of this family."

"Me to Molly."

Harry hugged her briefly before turning and making his way to Ginny's side. "What?" She asked when he took his seat beside her. "No kiss for me?"

Harry leaned forward and captured her lips in a long kiss. "Hello beautiful."

Ginny smiled happily. "That's better." She took his hand and twined her fingers through his. "What were you and Ron talking about?" She shifted awkwardly, her eyes narrowing on her plate.

"Err…" Harry glanced across the table at Ron who was bouncing the baby lightly on his leg while chewing a morsel of chicken. "He was asking me a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

Ron swallowed the chicken as he cut another piece of the bone. "Oh nothing." He lifted another morsel to his lips. "I just asked him if he would indorse my application for adoption."

There was a moment's silence as everyone watched Ron chew ad swallow as if he hadn't just made a life altering statement.

Molly finally broke the silence when she squealed with delight. "I knew it." Her face practically burst with pride. "I knew you wouldn't give up that baby."

"I recon you were right, Mum." He pressed a kiss to the baby's crown. "I could never give up my little girl."

"Zat iz vonderful, Ron." Said Fleur, leaning over and stroking the baby's cheek tenderly. "Ze iz very beautiful. You ahr very lucky."

"When does it become official?" asked Cat, setting down her silverware with the rest of her family.

"I don't know." Ron shrugged. "I'm still filling out the paperwork and then I'll have to be approved. It could take a while."

"But still," asked George, "are you ready to be a Dad?"

"Yeah." Ron's arm tightened protectively around the baby. "I am."

"Wow." Harry glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye. She let out a shallow breath. "I realize I've watched this all happen. You'd have to be blind not to see how much you cared for that little girl. But it's still strange to think that you're the same Ron who was terrified of babies not that long ago."

Ron nestled the baby closer. "Yeah, it is kind of strange."

"Please tell me that if you're planning on adopting her you're also planning on giving her a real name." Ashken said. "I hate calling her baby all the time."

"As a matter of fact I am."

"And?" She prompted.

"_And_ you'll have to wait until the Naming Ceremony to find out what I've picked."

"I'm sorry. The what?"

"The Naming Ceremony. It's a tradition in the Blythe family. I've decided that even though I don't agree with what her family did for a living, I want her to know where she comes from. I don't want her to ever be ashamed of who she is and I don't want her to go through what Harry did not knowing his family. So excluding the more barbaric or unsavory traditions and beliefs, I want to pass down her heritage. And I'm going to start with the Naming Ceremony."

"I think that's a fine idea Ron. Very admirable of you."

Ron smiled gratefully at his dad. "Thank you."

"This is so exciting." Cat cut into her chicken. "We'll have another member of the family very soon."

"Ouch." Heads spun to see Harry turn with concern toward his wife, his hand clasped painfully in hers. "Ginny are you all right?"

"Yeah."Her face contorted with pain. "We're going to have a new family member sooner than we thought." Her nails dug into Harry's skin. "I think my water just broke."


	8. A Family Affair

Chapter Eight: A Family Affair

Hermione glanced at her watch as she passed through the glass entrance of St. Mungo's Hospital while trying to press down the guilt that was rising inside her. She had never taken a personal day away from the office in her entire working career and though she knew the birth of Ginny's and Harry's child was well worth it and more than justifiable, it didn't ease the guilt she felt. She hadn't been at the Ministry all that long after all and feared that her taking the day off would set a bad president. But her fear wasn't enough to keep her away from the hospital. Not today, she was simply too excited. Besides, she reasoned with herself as she entered the hospital lobby, she would be much too distracted to get any work done if she did bother going in to the office.

Without bothering to stop at the receptionist area she hurried to the lifts and pressed the call button. Growing impatient at the lifts failure to make a timely appearance, Hermione tapped her toe agitatedly as she watched the arrow that indicated which floor the lift was currently on swing back in an arch until it landed on the main floor. The moment the doors slid open Hermione rushed inside and punched the button that corresponded with the Maternity ward. When the doors didn't immediately close she jabbed at the button, then a few more times until finally they eased shut and the lift lurched into motion.

Hermione sagged against the wall and took a calming breath. This was too much for her nerves. If it frazzled her this much when her friend was the one having the baby she couldn't imagine what it would be like when it was her turn to give birth.

Consumed with her thoughts, Hermione failed to notice she had reached her destination until the lift doors slid open and revealed a quiet hall at the end of which stood a large gathering of people with fire red hair. Hermione relaxed at the sight. It eased her nerves to know that Ginny's family had been here for her when she couldn't be.

She pushed off from the wall and stepped lightly into the hall, her shoes sounding distinctly on the tile floor. Molly was the first to notice her approach and separated herself from the group along with Arthur to greet her.

"Hermione dear." She opened her arms and drew the younger girl into a secure hug. "It's so nice to see you again."

"How is she?" Hermione asked as she drew slightly away, leaving her hands resting on Molly's arms, sensing the older woman's need for comfort.

"She's doing fine." Molly said, though her voice quivered faintly. "Harry came out a few minutes ago to tell us she's almost there. She'll start pushing soon." Molly covered her mouth when a yawn threatened to escape. "I'm sorry." She tried to blink the weariness from her eyes. "It's been a long night."

"Mrs Weasley, why didn't you go home and rest?"

"No," She patted Hermione's cheek. "I couldn't risk the baby being born without me being here. Now, why don't you take a seat?" She motioned to the benches lining the walls. "It shouldn't take long now."

Setting a hand on the young girls back, Molly led her to where the rest of the family was gathered. They had divided from the large group into smaller clusters and dispersed slightly along the hall way allowing room for others to pass through if needed. The hospital was surprisingly quiet for the amount of people it had crammed in its hallway, but the Weasleys kept their voices low and while she couldn't hear what they said, the air hummed with the joviality and camaraderie that could only come from a family that enjoyed each other's company.

On the floor tucked between two benches and the wall sat the oldest of the Weasley grandchildren, playing with dolls, blocks, odd pieces of parchment and a massive pile of crayons that the three children must have made together.

When Hermione had learned that none of the Weasleys had seen a crayon let alone used one before, she had promptly gone out and purchased a set for all of the grandchildren old enough to use them. They had been an instant success. Barron had liked his crayons so much in fact that Bill had had to floo her already to ask her where he could pick up another set. And George, who was currently sitting on the floor with his daughter Melani sitting in his lap, had convinced Fred that they needed to start stocking them in their store as an alternative to the messy paints most wizarding children used to color with.

"Hermione," Fred, who had spotted her standing a few paces away watching them, broke away from the small group he was standing with and came towards her. Reaching up, her tussled her hair like he would a small child, causing her curls to stack on each other so that they sat higher than normal. "Good of you to come."

Brushing away her annoyance, Hermione tried her best to smooth her hair without a mirror and decided the cause was lost. "Where else would I be?" She asked. "That's my god baby in there being born."

"Still, Ginny would appreciate knowing you're here. Not that she's in any state to hear that you are. I would be surprised if she was aware any of us were here at the moment. But there you have it."

"I wish I could have been here sooner. Why didn't any one owl me last night? I would have come."

"We thought about it. But by the time we got Ginny here visiting hours were already over and the Healer assured us that nothing would happen until morning so there was no point in staying. Only Mum, Dad and Ron remained the whole night, the rest of us went home."

"I would have stayed."

"Which is why Mum made the decision not to owl you until morning. She was already beside herself trying to convince Ron to take the baby home for the night. It wasn't until George and Ashken offered to watch her that she finally gave in and left Ron alone. But you know how he gets. He was going to be here if Harry or Ginny needed him, and nobody was going to tell him otherwise."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yeah." She tried to swallow past the hard knot in her throat. There was a time when Ron would have done the same for her. "That sounds like him."

"Hermione, what is it?" Fred asked with concern when he saw the sheen that had settled over her eyes.

"It's noting."

"That's a lie. Tell me," he coaxed. "I swear I won't tell anyone."

"It's nothing." She tried to brush away his concern. "I'm just being foolish."

Fred narrowed his eyes at her as if to say, _You__? Being foolish? I don't think so._ "Hermione?" He said pointedly.

Working quickly to find something acceptable to say, Hermione lowered her head to hide her eyes. "It's nothing really. I just…I just love the way your family all cares so much about each other. It's very beautiful. I love my Mum and Dad, don't get me wrong, but things haven't been the same since I left for Hogwarts. I suppose a part of me wises I could be part of all this. One of the family."

"Hermione," Fred coaxed her chin playfully so that she was forced to look at him. "Don't tell anyone I told you this, I do have a reputation to uphold after all and no one would believe you if you did. And furthermore I'll bitterly deny it." He sternly pointed his finger at her. "You are a part of this family. You have been for a very long time, even if some pig headed git we can both think or might not want you to be."

The warm feeling that had begun to settle over her heart instantly evaporated at his last words. "Thanks Fred." She stepped away from him. "That makes me feel loads better."

" Hermione I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay." She stopped him. "We both know you're right. He doesn't want me a part of his life or his family." Fred's face altered in surprise. Whether that surprise was caused by her agreeing with him for perhaps the first time since they had known each other, or because her response was so subjugated, she didn't know, but the look was enough to lighten her mood; somewhat. She turned away from Fred and her heart tightened once again.

Bill had left the group he had been standing with which had included Charlie and both of their wives, to sit on the floor with George and the children and in doing so opened up Hermione's line of vision to Ron, who was sitting on one of the many benches lining the corridor, a small baby girl with ink black hair lying against his chest. Both man and child were asleep, their chests rising and falling in sync with each other, her two breaths for every one of his. They were laying chest to chest, the little baby's face turned toward her so that she could see the small puddle of drool that was wetting Ron's robes. One of Ron's large hands rested on the child's back, supporting her and comforting her as she slept.

For a moment Hermione stood mesmerized. She was right. In a single glance she could discern that Ron was indeed the amazing father she thought he would be. The gentle way his thumb comfortingly stroked his child's back, even in sleep, spoke volumes for the love he must feel for his daughter and in a moment of insanity Hermione felt both jealousy and hatred towards the woman both lucky enough to have shared something so special and wonderful with Ron and stupid enough to have given it up. She struggled to keep her breath from growing haggard and her eyes from watering. Now more than ever she regretted her past with Ron and yearned for what a small part of her had always hoped and wished could have been.

"Hermione?"

"Pardon me Fred. I think I'm going to go see if I can do anything to rectify that family objection."

"Now?" But Hermione was already gone, walking briskly down the corridor.

Ron focused on the weight of the small body lying against his chest. He savored the way she nestled against his body, her tiny hands gripping his robes in sleep, almost like she was afraid Ron would leave her again. His heart tightened in his chest at the thought and his hand firmed slightly against her back.

Just like with Si's birth Ron had been a wreck all night worrying about Ginny and the baby as well as the frazzled state her condition put his best mate in. It was almost comical. Ron had seen Harry in some of the damn scariest situations anyone could ever find himself in and he hadn't broken a sweat. But the moment you put him in a room with Ginny when she was in pain he became a nervous wreck. Ron had stayed the night not so much for Ginny, she came through the last birth perfectly, but for Harry who hadn't done nearly as well. Ron remained because he knew how to calm Harry's nerves when they got the better of him. So in that regard, last night should have gone more smoothly than the last time, Harry was much more composed the second time around. Instead, Ron's night had become infinitely worse. With Si he only had Harry to worry about; this time he had his baby girl as well. Since the moment she had first come home to live with him she had never spent the night away and he had worried how she would handled the new setting. His worst fears had been confirmed when he had seen her tear stained face that morning.

His heart tightened as he recalled her little red face and the anxiety on George's and Ashken's when they appeared in the ward. Ashken was almost beside herself with guilt. Apparently the baby had started crying the moment they tried to lay her down for the night and neither she nor George had been able to calm her enough to still her crying or coax her into sleep. She had remained awake most of the night and only ceased crying when she had exhausted herself into temporary slumber.

The moment she spotted Ron that morning, standing in the hallway with his mum and dad, she began crying and reaching desperately for him, breaking his heart in the process. It wasn't until she was safely back in Ron's arms that she stopped and immediately snuggled into his chest, tucking her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck, wetting his skin with her tears. Ron had dismissed George and Ashken's apologies, offering one of his own. "She just wanted her daddy." He tried to explain, feeling his own guilt for putting George, Ashken and Melani through his daughter's tantrum. It wasn't long before Ron felt the gentle rise and fall of her chest in slumber; she hadn't roused since.

Now here he sat, his thumb continuing to rub her back in small circles as he listened to the sounds of his family around them. It had a calming effect on his nerves and finally after a restless night of worrying, he was able to relax. Everything would be fine now that he knew his little girl was alright.

Somewhere, to his right, Ron sensed someone move drawing him out of is thoughts. Moments later he heard the unfamiliar click of shoes on the tiled floor. He knew instantly it wasn't his mother or any of his sisters-in-law. The women in his family wore more sensible shoes now that they were mothers or expecting their first child.

The soft tapping came to a stop beside them and Ron stiffened when he felt her settle her weight on the bench next to him. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was. Sensing his unease, the baby shifted, her body stiffening uncomfortably against him. He took a deep breath and slowly released it from his body, trying to exhale the tension mounting along with it.

"Ron?"

"Don't."

Hermione jumped back in surprise. Believing Ron to be asleep she had been about to set her hand on his shoulder to nudge him gently awake. She snatched her hand back and let it fall into her lap. "I thought you were asleep." She admitted awkwardly.

Ron remained still and silent, making no indication that he was awake or even aware of her sitting next to him.

"I…er…I was hoping we could, well, talk."

There was a beat then a firm, "No."

"Ron," Hermione eased closer, her voice lowered to a whisper. "This is ridiculous. I know you've been avoiding me since I returned to England. Don't you think…"

"No." He said in the same firm, impersonal voice. "I don't."

"Ron, we need to talk."

"No. We don't."

Hermione let out a sharp breath in agitation. "Would you please open your eyes and look at me?" His lids didn't so much as flutter. Anyone who was watching them would have assumed she was busy talking to a sleeping man. "Fine. If you won't talk to me I'll just talk to you."

Ron's eyes snapped open and he slowly turned his head so that he could glare at her. "Go away." He said slow and evenly, like he was speaking with a half wit who didn't understand him. "I don't want to talk to you. Can you not take a hint?"

Hermione lowered her face to hide the flush that crept into her cheeks. "It's been five years, Ron. What happened between us was…"

"Shut up." He snarled shortly, his teeth clenching painfully together. "I don't want to talk about that. Especially not here, surrounded by _my_ family."

"I'm sorry if you don't deem now an appropriate time, Ronald, but you haven't given me many options. You keep running away every time I try and speak with you."

"I don't run away."

"Yes you do." She argued back. "You have been since that first day in the Ministry."

"You never tried to stop me at an appropriate time. I'm a very busy man."

"Then when would be an appropriate time?"

Ron seemed to ponder her question a moment before saying. "Not when there are others around. There's no need to get my family involved."

"How about at work, then?" She said snidely. "Why don't we hatch it out in front of the entire Ministry? Right in front of Parker and the rest of your squad? How does that sound?"

"You stay away from Parker." There was a hint of warning in his voice.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want you corrupting my squad. Stay away from Parker."

"Corrupting your squad? Is that what you honestly think of me? That I would try and _corrupt_ your squad?"

"Would you please keep your voice down?"

"_N__o!_" She said shortly, her voice rising slightly, "I won't. I cannot believe you just said that to me when you were the one… Do you know what? Maybe now is the perfect time to discuss this. Perhaps it would be best if I told your parents what kind of man you really are."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"Please Ron." She glared at him. "Don't act stupid with me. You might disrespect me but do not disrespect my intelligence. As if you don't…"

The door to the hospital room opened and Ron cut her off by rising instantly to his feet, jostling the baby awake in his haste. Hermione followed suit when she spotted Harry stepping into the hallway, a happy, but ragged expression on his face. He pushed his sweat slicked hair back out of his eyes and stretched his neck from side to side, rubbing away the stiffness with his hand. "It's a girl."

Rushing forward Molly clasped Harry's face between her hands and drew it down so that she could kiss every bit she could reach. "How are they? Is Ginny doing alright? What about the baby?"

"They're fine" Harry's grin grew painfully wide. "They're both doing excellent. She has all ten fingers and all ten toes and a set of lungs to rival any Weasley."

"When can we see them?"

Harry smiled reassuringly at Molly as he patted her arm. "In a few minutes. Ginny wants to see Si before the rest of you come in. She's worried how he's taking all this excitement. Hello Si." Harry held his hands out to his son when Bill carried him over. He pressed a noisy kiss to the little boy's cheek before settling him on his hip. "Are you ready to see Mummy?" he patted his bottom affectionately "Come on, Mum's aching to see you."

Harry reentered the hospital room as the Healer and his team was leaving. Ginny glanced up and smiled at the sight of them. "I was wondering when my boys would be showing up."

Si pulled his thumb out of his mouth and held his hands out toward his mother. Harry set him down near Ginny's knee before helping her shift over when she tried to make room for them both. "Are you alright?" He asked when he saw her flinch.

"I'm fine. Just a little tender."

Harry lifted Si onto his lap as he sat next to Ginny, slipping his arm around her shoulders when she leaned forward. "You did wonderful, love." He said as he pressed a kiss to her brow. "Did I tell you that?" He rested his cheek on Ginny's head so that he could look down at his new daughter. "She's beautiful."

"You're lying." Ginny moved aside the blanket so they could better see the baby's face. "She looks like a shriveled tomato."

"She's beautiful." Harry insisted.

Shifting forward on Harry's lap, Si placed a hand on his mothers arm as he leaned forward and looked down at his new sister. He tilted his head to the side a moment as he looked at her before leaning forward, brining his face right up close to hers. Ginny laid a tender hand on her son's baby soft cheek. The little boy looked up at his mother, his eyes scrunched with puzzlement. "He doesn't understand."

"He will. He's a smart boy."

"I know he is." Ginny transferred her hand to Harry's cheek. "Just like his daddy." She pulled his face down for a kiss. They held each other for several seconds before Harry pulled away and rested his chin on the crown of her head.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I know you do." She turned his face into his chest. "I love you too. What's this?" She reached up and wiped away the trail of moisture on his cheek when she felt a drop fall on her head. "Why are you crying?"

Harry pressed his cheek into her hand. "All my life I never thought I could be this happy."

Ginny shook her head slowly, her eyes welling with love. "Kiss me again you stupid, loving sap."

Harry captured her lips in a hungry kiss. The two melted into each other and didn't separate until they heard a gentle knock at the door. The handle turned and seconds later Arthur's face appeared in the gap. "I'm sorry to bother you two, but Molly's going mental and dragging the rest of us down with her. Do you think it would be possible to let her in now?"

"Of course. Come in." Harry set Si on the floor before helping Ginny into a sitting position. The room slowly filled with people and Ginny's eyes widened.

"Everyone's not here, are they?"

"Of course we are kido." Bill said as he came to stand at the foot of the bed with his family. "It's not every day we welcome a new Weasley into the world."

"Nope," George clapped his brother on his back. "Just every month or so."

"Especially with these two going at it." Charlie laughed, nodding toward Harry and Ginny.

"That's enough you three." Molly scolded as she came to stand beside Ginny. "Don't spoil your sister's day." She gently brushed loose strands back off Ginny's brow.

"It's all right mum. I'm just so glad you're all here." she looked down at her new daughter then up at her mother. "Would you like to hold her?"

Molly's eyes brightened instantly with anticipation. "Can I?"

"Of course." Ginny laughed. She shifted the baby and held her up so that Molly could take her. "Has anyone flooed Hermione. I'd like her to be here."

"All ready done." Hermione stepped away from the door where she had been lurking. "How are you?" she asked as she stepped up to the bed and took her friend's hand.

"Tired." Ginny admitted.

"I'm sure you are. I'm surprised you're up to having all these visitors. If it were me I'd want peace and quiet."

"No." Ginny smiled. "I thrive on this." The two girls watched together as Molly handed the baby to Arthur who, rocking gently with every step, carried her to where the rest of her family was gathered, crouching low so that all could see.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Hermione asked. "It's the least I can do after all you've done for me."

"No, no. I'm fine. The Healers have been taking good care of me."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Ginny nodded.

"In that case, are you any closer to picking a name?"

"Actually," Ginny looked beyond Hermione to meet Harry's eyes. "I've been thinking about that. Perhaps we could follow the tradition in your mother's family and name her after a flower."

Harry's brow arched with intrigue. "What did you have in mind?"

"I hadn't gotten that far yet." She admitted. "I'd only thought of it while you were outside getting Si."

"Cukooflower."

The family turned to face Fred, varying expressions of curiosity, distaste and amusement on their faces.

"Yeah," Harry nodded his head sarcastically as he moved to Ginny's side. "That's a great idea Fred. Cuckooflower Potter. It has a nice ring to it."

"Exactly." Fred said brightly. "It's always been my favorite flower."

"Try again." Ginny said humorlessly.

"Holly." Bill offered.

"Orchid." Suggested George.

"Heather."

"Ivy."

"Iris." The names started coming at her quickly.

"No, no, no." Ginny shook her head. "Those names aren't interesting enough."

"Were you thinking something more like Heliotrope?" Asked Ashken.

"No."Ginny said slowly, her brows scrunching slightly in thought. "That's not quite right either. It sounds _too_ much like a flower and not enough like a baby name. Harry, what do you think?" She turned to her husband and found him head bowed, his expression contemplative. "Harry?" She nudged him gently when he didn't respond. "Where did you go?"

"Sorry." He gave his head a curt shake. "I was trying to remember the flowers I use to plant in my aunts garden."

"And?"

"A few came to mind. Alison, Angelica, Marrigold, err…Primrose."

"Primrose Potter?" she asked objectionably.

"You're right." Harry agreed "It's awful." He paused a moment. "What do you think of Bryony?"

"Bryony." Ginny tested the name. "Bryony Potter. Bry or Bri for short. That's interesting."

"Yeah?" He asked, surprised with himself.

"Yeah. Let me think on it a bit, see how it fits. We're not stepping on any toes, are we Ron?"

"No." Ron stepped away from the wall, bouncing his baby lightly on his arm. "You can have Bryony. I have a different name in mind."

Ginny held her hands out for the baby and Arthur set her in his daughter's arms. "What do you think Harry? Does she look like a Bryony?"

"Hmm." He tipped his head to the side. "Not really. I'd say she looks more like a human."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That was pathetic." She laughed. "Even Ron could have made a better joke than that."

"Hey!" Ron objected halfheartedly.

Ginny flashed her brother a bright smile. "Love you, Ronnie."

"Yeah, love you to Gin."

"Ginny?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Can I hold her please?"

"Yes. Of course." She offered Hermione the baby, guiding the small child into place. "Watch her head." She warned as Hermione shifted the baby in her arms.

"I know, I know. I've read up on this." She sighed softy as she nestled the baby into the crook of her arm. "I've been looking forward to holding her since you wrote to tell me you were pregnant." She nuzzled her nose against the newborn's cheek. "She's perfect. Just the right mixture of Potter and Weasley."

Ron watched silently as Hermione held his niece, his eyes narrowing into slits as an indefinable tension mounted in his chest. He watched the way she held the baby and rocked her gently back and forth, speaking in that low, soothing voice that only mothers knew and felt the same ache in his chest as that morning five years ago; reignited and throbbing like it had only just happened. His arm tensed around his daughter as the ache intensified to a sharp stab in the heart.

Hermione kissed the crown of Bryony's head. "You have no idea how much this makes me wish I had a child of my own."

Unable to stand watching another moment Ron slipped around the back of the group towards the door. Spotting something out of the corner of his eye, George turned and caught Ron with his hand on the door.

"Where you off to?"

Ron's eyes drifted past him to Hermione and back. "I have to go."

"Ron!"

Ignoring his brother, Ron turned away, his eyes shut tight. "Tell Ginny I'll be back later to see her."

* * *

Hello Everyone, I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you who reviewed again. Your responses have helped keep me sane while trying to finish all my school work. So thank you. I also wanted to apologize for taking so long in updating. There are a lot of things going on in my life right now and I don't have a lot of time. Hopefully the next chapter won't be so long in coming. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you for keeping with me. Noterwomann

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	9. Not Again

* * *

I wanted to take this chance to thank you all once again for being so wonderful and sticking with me and my story. An extra thanks to you who have taken the time to review. Your witty remarks and speculation or so much fun to read and I would love to hear more of what you have to say. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. I hope it lives up to your expectations. Happy Reading, Noterwomann

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Chapter Nine: Not Again

"You must understand what kind of position I am in, Mr Weasley. Yes, this is an extraordinary case, I don't argue that, but the Ministry doesn't make it a habit to hand over a child to their parent's killer."

"I did not kill her parents!" Realizing the futility of shouting, Ron took a breath to calm his rising anger. "As the Ministry report clearly states-"

"But you were leading the team that is responsible, were you not?"

"Yes. But neither death could have been prevented. The Blythes were under arrest. We were taking them into custody and they fought back. We followed proper Ministry procedures. My team does everything wizardly possible to bring every prisoners in alive. Following protocol we stunned Vyvica Watter Blythe, unfortunately she fell forwards over a balcony. There was nothing we could have done to prevent her death. As for Timothy Blythe, he was killed by his own spell deflected back on him."

"Look Ron," Winifred Edgecombe removed her glasses and set them aside before folding her hands over his application. "I like you. You know that, right? And I think you'll make an excellent father. I'm also well aware of you and the work your squad does. I admire all that you've accomplished since you've joined the Ministry. Personally," she brought her hands up to her chest, "I would love nothing more than to grant your petition here and now. But there's too much stacked against you. You're connected to the death of the parents of the child in question. Who's to say she won't meet the same fate at your hands?"

"Excuse me!" Ron bolted to his feet, his eyes flaring dangerously with anger. "Are you questioning my character?"

"No, Ronald. I'm not. I assure you these questions are not coming from me. Please," she motioned to the seat he had been sitting in, "sit down. Sit." She prompted again when he remained standing. "You're not the only person who has to answer to superiors. I can't just hand the Blythe baby over to you. However, I can do everything in my power to make this happen. But in order to do that you need to help me. These are the types of questions you are going to be faced with at your custody hearing. You need to find a better way to answer them. Losing your temper like that is not going to help you win your case."

Ron took a calming breath. "I'm sorry." He forced the tension out of his body through his fingers by flexing them several times. "I've worked very long and very hard to get to where I am. And I'm sorry, but I take great offence to any suggestion that I would ever deliberately hurt anyone, most especially an innocent child."

"I understand. Like I said, I've been following your career. You have a clean record."

"So why are we debating this?"

"Because," she sighed. "It's protocol. Something I'm sure you understand."

Sighing unhappily Ron nodded. "Yes, I understand."

"Good. Now let's try this again. If you are granted custody what is our assurance that the child will not meet the same fate as her parents?"

"The child in question has been living under my protection for nearly a month and a half and has not come to harm. In fact she has grown and thrived under my care."

"You are a single man. Are you sure you can handle the pressure of raising a child on your own?"

"The Ministry trusts me to lead upwards to twenty people into some of the most volatile situations the Death Eaters can cook up. I am use to thinking on my feet and maintaining control. If I can be trusted by the Ministry to handle their most sensitive cases then I should surely be trusted to manage the wellbeing of one little girl."

"But she won't always be a little girl. Eventually she will grow up. Are you prepared to answer questions she might have when she gets older?"

"How do you mean?"

"You will be this child's sole source of information. Are you prepared to answer the questions she will undoubtedly have over the changes her body will be going through?"

A highly uncomfortable, almost panicked look crossed his face for a moment. "Is any father prepared to answer those types of questions?" He asked, shifting in his seat, adjusting the collar of his cloak. "If there are any questions she is not comfortable asking me or I am not comfortable answering, or if I don't have the proper information to answer her questions with, there is no lack of female companionship in my family. Taking after my father, three of my five brothers have married strong, kind women. My mum takes an active role in everyone's lives, mien and in extension, the baby's, included. I also have a sister who I am very close with. In fact, if everything goes according to plan, I have every intention of asking her and her husband, Harry Potter, to be the godparents. My family has dinner together every Thursday evening and we randomly stop in to visit with each other. We're all very close. And if that isn't enough, there are also several female cousins the baby will be raised alongside of. Harry and Ginny had a little girl three days ago, that means their daughter and mine will be growing up alongside each other and when the time comes they will be going to Hogwarts together. The Weasleys, together as a family, will teach her how to be a strong, upstanding, independent woman."

"That's wonderful. Family support is crucial in cases like this. I was acquainted with Fred and George while in school. I always liked them. Have they settled down any since?"

"George has settled down a great deal since marrying Asken. He turned into a right old sap when his daughter Melani was born. He's still got a wicked sense of humor though. Nearly every single one of the products he solely developed for the joke shop has been best sellers. Fred," Ron rolled his eyes, "hasn't changed. After seeing what happened to George when he married Fred swore he never would and has become even more of a rebel since. He's a good uncle though. Melani loves him to death."

Winifred nodded. "Really? I always thought he and Angelina would have married."

"So did she. Angelina doesn't come around so much anymore."

"I can understand that." She shook her head sympathetically. "Hopefully Fred gets his act together. I would hate to see him alone for the rest of his life. How will you support her?"

"Support who?"

"The Blythe baby."

"Oh right. For a moment I thought we were still talking about Angelina. Err…How will I support the baby? Well, I'm one of the top paid Ministry employees. I make more than enough to support us both."

"You are an Auror, correct?"

"Yes." He said slowly, insinuating that the answer was quiet obvious.

"Captain of the Alpha Squad?"

"Yes." He said again.

"Tell me, your missions. They are incredibly dangerous. You handle the most sensitive and dangerous cases the Ministry has. If you were to die on one of your missions what would become of the child?"

Ron stared at her blankly for a moment.

"Mr Weasley?"

"Sorry." Ron sat back in his chair. "I'm afraid your question took me by surprise. I don't really know how to answer. I hadn't really brought that under consideration before."

"Perhaps you should. Auror's have a high mortality rate. If the worse were to happen what would happen to the child and do you think it fair that she lose another father?"

"I won't let that happen."

"And how do you intend on preventing it?"

"Ms Edgecombe," Ron moved forward in his seat so that he was sitting on the edge and was in a position to look directly into her eyes. "I am the best at what I do." He said earnestly. "My team is made up of the Ministry's finest. We're a well oiled machine and we have each other's backs. We do everything in our power to ensure that everyone returns from every mission."

"But there have been casualties?"

"Of course there have. Like you said, being an Auror is a risk. But isn't there a risk in everything you do. Stepping out your front door every morning is a risk."

"But the point is that your job puts you in more danger then most."

"Yes, but every day that danger lessons. That is my job, Ms Edgecombe. I go to work every morning to ensure that this world stays safe for everyone. I hunt down the people who threaten our peace and safety and I bring them in so that they can't cause any more harm. And if you'll allow me to be blunt, I care very deeply about that little girl. I love her. She has suffered enough already, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that it doesn't happen again. My first and foremost concern will always be her."

Winifred Edgecombe returned her glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Very well Mr Weasley." She smiled reassuringly. "I will push your application through. Normally adoption proceedings take several months, but you and your team have already done most of my work for me." She flipped through the pages of his application, stopping to scan pages here and there. "I see that you have your supervisor, Roland Greene, and Harry Potter listed as character references. That's good." She assured him. "You've also convinced me you deserve this child, so I will be endorsing you as well." She flipped closed the application and pulled her diary towards her. "I will set your hearing for the first available slot." She flipped a few more pages. "Maybe something will open up. What I need you to do in the mean time is set about making provisions. At your hearing you can be assured they'll question you on what will happen to the child if you were to die on the job. You need to prove to us that she'll be well taken care of. And if you want my professional opinion, you might want to consider a change in career."

"Why? There are plenty of members of my squad who have children."

"Yes I know. I realize it doesn't seem fair, but we can't stop Aurors from having natural children. Unfortunately for you we can decide not to let one adopt. On the other hand, as I know I've said before, your reputation precedes you. You're well liked here at the Ministry and that will help your case. It also doesn't hurt that you have character references from Roland Greene and Harry Potter. Harry Potter, Ron, you couldn't ask for better."

"What exactly are you trying to tell me, Winnie?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I don't really think your application will be denied. I would go so far as to say that you should be the legal father of the Blythe baby is several months at the most. But there is always the chance that things might not go our way. So, I want to help you do everything in our power to make sure that doesn't happen. We need to cover all our bases, anticipate their every objection and have a suitable argument. Do you understand?"

"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

"Precisely." She smiled.

Ron nodded his head. "Alright. Thank you, Ms Edgecombe." He returned to the formality of before and reached across her desk, offering her his hand. "I appreciate your assistance."

"It's my pleasure Ron." She said pointedly, taking his hand and giving it a curt shake before releasing it to rise to her feet. "You have a long road ahead of you," she led him to her office door, "but I think you'll come out of this just fine. I'd like you to set up another appointment with my assistant for later this week."

"I'll do that."

"Very good. Until then."

"Thank you, Winnie."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"Ron!" Harry stumbled out of the grate and into Ron's darkened study. Gaining his feet he stepped further into the room and pulled his wand out of his pocket, banishing the soot from his clothes. "Ron!" He called again into the silence. Leaving the study behind, he moved into the hall and stopped, straining his ears for any sound. When he heard the ceiling creak overhead he moved toward the staircase and started to climb.

When he reached the landing he didn't stop but continued on down the hall towards the open door at the end. A light was on inside and its soft glow spilled out into the hall. As he drew closer to the door he could hear the gentle hum of his friend's voice as he spoke in the dulcet tones he only used when he talked to the baby. When Harry reached the door he came to a stop and leaned his shoulder against the jam, crossing his arms over his chest.

In the nursery Ron was sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back to the door so Harry remained unseen. In his lap was the Blythe baby, her back leaning against his stomach. Scattered around them on the floor was bits of empty packing material and in the corner was a new crib made of highly buffed mahogany wood, complete with bedding of pale blue embroidered with silver and gold stars and moons. Floating over the new crib was a matching set of shiny metallic stars and one larger milk white crescent moon that dipped and twirled gently as if they danced to an unheard lullaby. "What do you think?" Ron jiggled the baby's right foot. "Is the color right?" He tipped his head from one side to the other, leaned forward slightly then settled back again. "You're right." he sighed after a few moments. "Plain walls won't do." He waved his wand and the pale blue disappeared from the wall. "It's not special enough for my little girl. Unfortunately for you," he set aside his wand so that he could lift her with his hands supporting her under her arms and turn her so that she was looking at him eye level, "your dad's a real dunderhead when it comes to decorating. You're Auntie Ginny, now she's really good. You should see what she's done with your cousin Si's room. If the bed was a little bigger I'd steal it for myself." He bounced the baby lightly on her feet. "Maybe we can convince your aunty to come over here and whip this room into shape. What do you think of that idea, little girl?" A few of his fingers flickered against her side causing her to squirm as her sweet laughter filled the room.

"I think that can be arranged."

"Harry," Ron's head whipped around in surprise, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear you admit you're a real dunderhead."

Ron scowled slightly at the mirth he saw on his friends face. "When it comes to decorating."

"Not what I heard." Harry laughed.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah well, you're no better. Your place was a mess until Ginny started cleaning it up for you."

"What ever you say, Dunderhead." Harry nodded at the new piece of furniture set in the corner. "I see you finally broke down and bought a crib. It's nice."

"Yeah," Ron set the baby against his shoulder so that he had a free hand to get to his feet. "I chose the star pattern because it was cute enough for a little girl but not so sweet it made me sick."

"Took you long enough to buy her one."

Ron shrugged as he swooped down to retrieve his wand. "I didn't want to jinx myself in case I had to give her up." He stuffed his wand into his pocket.

"You still might." Harry said uneasily.

Ron shook his head sternly. "No." His other hand came up to protectively hold the baby to his shoulder. "I won't let that happen. She's mine now and no one's going to take her away from me."

"Far be it for me to be the pessimistic one, but there is a chance that you might not have a choice. I'm just saying," Harry held up a hand when Ron began to protest, "I need you to be aware of the chance that the court might not side with you."

"If that happens the Ministry had better be prepared to not only lose one of the best Aurors to ever work for them, but to fight their way through the entire Weasley family to try and take her away."

"The Potter family too."

"I was sort of counting you with the Weasleys, but thanks mate." He began to sway gently back and forth, tenderly patting the baby's back in rhythm. "It's good to know you have my back."

"I've had your back since we were eleven years old. That's never going to change."

"Merlin," Ron rolled his eyes playfully, "gives us a couple kids and we turn into a bunch of pansies. What are you doing here anyway? Why aren't you at the hospital with my sister?"

"Probably because she came home today and I was worried about you. We both are."

Ron looked at Harry skeptically. "Why?"

"Because of the way you left the other day."

Ron turned his back on Harry, continuing to sway gently on his feet. "There were too many people there, and someone was getting a little crabby." Ron gave the baby's back an extra little tap. "I was planning to stop by and see Ginny and the baby tomorrow. You didn't have to come and check on me."

"I would have come sooner but I wasn't about to leave Ginny alone, especially not with Si getting into everything like he has been lately." Harry stopped a moment as if to debate the wisdom of his next words. "Ron…I saw the way you were looking at Hermione before you left."

"Really?" Ron pressed a gentle kiss to the baby's cheek as he ambled toward the crib and tenderly placed her inside, motioning Harry out into the hallway with his head as he did. "And how was I looking at her?" He used his wand to flick out the light before closing the door.

Harry waited until Ron was looking at him once again. "Like she ripped your heart out of your chest."

Ron stood stone cold for a moment before turning his head away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, don't play this game with me. That's not the first time I've seen that look on your face. She's done that to you before. We both know she has. How many times while at school did she cause the same reaction?"

Ron swallowed audibly before licking his lips. "You don't think…" He tried again, "You don't think she saw, do you?"

"No." Harry shook his head after a moment. "She was too focused on Bryony."

"Good." Ron rubbed at his temple. "I don't want her to know that she still gets to me."

"Sorry to break this to you, Ron, but she knows."

A panicked look contorted the tall redhead's face.

"Fred told me about the disagreement you two had in the hallway."

Ron's face darkened with color. "No one was supposed to hear that."

"So he gathered. Sounds like it didn't take very long for Hermione to get a response out of you. Fred said you were wound tighter then a spring. Why didn't you just go and speak with her like she wanted?"

Ron's eyes glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "How do you know that's what she wanted?"

"Because, she's been living in the same house as Ginny and me for the past few weeks. You hear things when you're sharing a house, not that she talks to us about the subject. I think she feels a little awkward seeing as were best friend and little sister to you. Most nights she floos her friend back in Spain. She's trying to, Ron. She wants to be your friend again. Can't you at least try and be hers?"

"No." Groaning heavily, Ron sagged against the wall and sank until he was sitting on the floor. "I don't think I can." He lifted his knees so that they were bent close to his chest; braced his elbows on his thighs and threaded his fingers through his hair. "I've been so angry with her for such a long time I don't know how else to be."

"It's been five years."

"I know that. But I look at her and all the old feelings come rushing back at me until I can't see straight. I worked so hard to be ready for this and the moment I see her I forget everything. I just see her running away again."

"She didn't run away."

"Yes she did."

Sliding down the wall so that he was sitting next to Ron, Harry braced his hands on his raised knees. "So why don't you talk to her about it?"

"What's the point? Nothing's changed."

"Everything's changed."

"No it hasn't. She still sees me as the same boy I was five years ago. Everything I've worked for, everything I've accomplished has meant nothing."

Harry turned his head, his eyes narrowing on Ron. "Is that why you've been working so hard? To prove yourself to Hermione?" Ron's silence was answer enough. "Look, I love that girl. I really do. But don't you dare belittle your accomplishments by comparing them to some skewed idea you have over what you think she thinks you should be."

Ron's hands dropped from his face. "What are you doing here, Harry? Shouldn't you be home with Ginny?"

"She'll be fine until I get back. Molly's staying with her. Right now I'm more worried about you."

"There's no need for that." Ron struggled to his feet. "I'm fine. Go back to your wife."

"Ron, you can't keep avoiding this."

"I had been thinking of holding the naming ceremony yesterday, but with Ginny and the new baby I've decided to wait until next weekend. I hope you and Gin won't be busy. According to the research I've done on the family the godparents are traditionally named at the ceremony as well, so I'm going to need you both there."

"If you don't want to talk about Hermione just say so."

"Fine." Ron turned to look directly at Harry. "I don't want to talk about Hermione. Will you and Gin be there?"

Harry sighed heavily. "Yes. We'll be there."

"Good." He offered Harry his hand and helped haul him to his feet. "Now I just need to talk to Mum and see if she would be willing to host. I would do it here but this place isn't big enough to hold the entire family."

"I don't think it'll take much to convince her. Is there anything I can do?"

"No." Ron shook his head. "Just take care of my sister and my new little niece."

"Wow," Harry playfully slung his arm over Ron's shoulder and pulled him toward the staircase. "Being a dad's changed you. "

"Yeah, yeah." Ron pushed Harry's arm off. "But seriously, I love that little girl." He said straightforwardly. "I don't know when it happened or really even how it happened, but I do. She hasn't been with me that long but I can't imagine my life without her. It's almost like she's a part of me. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah mate," they stepped off the steps into the foyer. "I do. I felt the same way the first time I held Si."

"How 'bout a drink before you head home? Gin won't mind will she?"

"No, she won't mind. I don't think she expects me home for a while yet."

Ron led Harry into the study. "Whiskey?"

"Sounds great."

Ron moved to his liquor cabinet and poured Harry and himself a draught of Whiskey. He handed Harry his glass before he conjured a fire, brightening the room as it cast the night shadows into the corners of the room. When the fire was lit he took his seat and the two men sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, both of them lost to their own thoughts.

"Harry," Ron asked with the glass held to his lips. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"What do you mean?"

Ron took a sip of his drink before lowering the glass to his thigh. "I spoke with Winifred Edgecombe today. We went through my case and she brought up some valid points. And I can't stop thinking about what she said. I don't want to ruin this but- I just want to be fair to…the baby."

"I'm afraid I'm not quiet sure what you're getting at here, Ron."

"Do you think it's fair of me to go through with this adoption?"

Harry stared at him in bewilderment. "Where is this coming from?"

"I just want to do right by her, Harry. I've already ruined her life once. I don't want to be responsible for doing it again. I couldn't bear it if she grew up to hate me."

"Why would she grow up to hate you?"

"Damn it Harry. It's my fault she doesn't have parents. My fault."

"No." Harry protested instantly. "No it's not."

"Yes it is. They wouldn't have died if my team had been more careful."

"They wouldn't have died if they hadn't been Death Eaters. They wouldn't have _died_ if one of them hadn't tried to _kill you_. You can't keep punishing yourself about this. It's over. The Ministry cleared you of cause. It's not like you set out to kill them."

"Will she see it that way? How do I know someday she won't blame me?"

"Because," Harry tried, sensing the torment that was raking his friend. "I know you. And she'll know you too. No one who knows you would ever believe that you tried to hurt anyone, let alone kill them. She won't be any different. Besides, you can't worry about what might happen someday in the distant future. Just worry about what is happening today. Focus on getting custody of her and worry about that problem _if_ and when the time comes. Don't start punishing yourself for something that might never happen."

"But…"

"It's not going to happen." Harry cut him off, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You're too good a dad. You love each other to much for that to ever happen. That girl is lucky to have you as her dad."

Ron took another sip of his drink to wet his tongue. "Harry?"

"What?"

"What happens if I die?"

"God. You're being awful cheerful today. I'm so glad I stopped by."

"I'm being serious." Ron set aside his glass. "I never gave it much thought before because no one was depending on me, but what if I don't come back from one of my mission? What's going to happen to her?"

"It's not going to. You're too careful."

"But what if it does?" Ron pushed to his feet in one fluid motion. "I can't stop thinking about it, Harry. Am I being fair to her? I've already cost her one set of parents. I don't want to be responsible for doing that again."

"Ron," Harry left his seat to step up beside him and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Despite what you probably think, this is good. You're thinking like a dad."

"By worrying all the time?"

"Yeah. It's the reason I stopped being a field agent and took my current post. It wasn't until Morris died that I really realized how dangerous my job was. I've only ever told Ginny this, but it was almost me. If Cosmos hadn't been standing in front of me when the curse detonated I never would have made it out of there. Gin was pregnant at the time and I realized that I almost missed meeting my son. I didn't want him growing up not knowing me the same way I didn't know my dad."

"I never heard you talk about this before."

Harry shrugged sadly. "I guess that's because I still miss him. Cosmos wasn't only my partner, he was one of my best friends. After you, Hermione and Gin of course."

Ron nodded. "Just like Parker and me."

"Exactly."

"Harry," Ron picked up his glass and slowly finished the rest of his drink, "Do you ever stop worrying?"

Harry paused a moment to think before shaking his head slowly. "I don't think you do. I think it's a lifelong commitment, you know? Have your mum and dad ever stopped worrying about you?"

"No." Ron admitted.

"See what I mean. Once you're a parent, it never stops. And if you want my opinion, if you don't go through with this adoption, you're going to regret it for the rest of your life."

"I only want what's best for her. And I think if that means I have to give her up…"

Harry put a hand on his friends shoulder sensing how much the idea of letting the Blythe baby go upset him. "Ron, what she needs is you. She didn't know Timothy Blythe long enough for him to be her real father. You're as much her dad as she is your little girl. In fact she's done the impossible and turned you into a dad. And like it or not you're going to be one for the rest of your life, regardless if she's a part of it or not. For both of your sakes I hope that doesn't come to pass. I kind of like who she's turned you into." Harry pointed his finger at Ron. "Finally someone has you wrapped around her finger tighter than Ginny has me. Turnabout is sweet." The minute hand on the mantle clock clicked into place in the silence that followed and Harry's eyes glanced toward the small face. "I should be going. It's almost time to put Si down." Harry finished his drink before walking the empty glass to the liquor cabinet. "Gin wanted me to extend an invitation for you and the baby to come have dinner with us tomorrow."

"Tell Gin thanks but-"

"Hermione won't be home for dinner." Harry cut in before he could finish. "She's flat hunting tomorrow. She'll be gone all evening."

Ron stared at him evenly as if trying to decide if he could be trusted. "What are we having?"

Harry grinned as he began to tick off one of Ron's favorite meals. "Roast-beef, baby reds, rolls, carrots, gravy," His grin grew wider as Ron's eyes fell closed. He could see his friend practically salivate as he imagined biting into the savory meet. "I had you at Roast-beef, didn't I?"

Ron nodded with his eyes still shut. "Hell yes. You play dirty."

"Ginny plays dirty. She planned the meal."

"Tell her well played. We'll be over after work."

"Excellent. Well, I really should be off."

Ron set his glass aside before walking Harry to the fire. "Give everyone my love."

"Will do. And Ron," Harry stopped with his fingers in his floo powder sac. "Try not to worry so much, you'll give yourself an ulcer."

"A what?"

Harry shook his head with a laugh. "Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow at the office."

"Good night Harry."

"Night Ron."

Ron watched Harry toss some powder into the fire before drawing closed the top of the small bag and stuffing it in his pocket. The redhead covered his eyes when the fire flared a dazzling green and his friend was swept home on the warm, tumbling ride.

Refilling his glass, Ron sat at his desk. He turned his chair so that he was looking out the window into the back garden. To his right he saw the rope swing suspended from the oldest and strongest tree, catch in the breeze and rock back and forth on the current. His lips twitched into a smile as he imagined himself teaching his daughter how to swing a few years from now the same way his dad taught him. He could almost hear her laughter as she kicked her little legs trying to make the swing carry her higher.

The smile slowly faded as the image expanded in his mind so that he could see all of the back garden. His eyes drifted away from the little girl on the swing to the back stoop where a slightly older Hermione sat watching, a small child with red hair at her side, resting his head in her lap and a smaller bundle held protectively in her arms. Her hand slowly lifted to wave at them, a bright smile on her face, before her hand came to rest on the little boys head.

"No." Ron shook his head, clearing it of the image. "Not again." He spun the chair back around and grabbed for the Whiskey. He swallowed what was left in the glass before wrenching open the top drawer and rifled around for the picture he was looking for.

He stared down at Hermione's face. "I won't let myself go there again. Do you understand?" He placed the picture face down as he closed his eyes. "I can't go through that again."


	10. Parker Gale

Chapter Ten: Parker Gale

Parker watched intently as Hermione Granger caught her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it until it was tender. She was deeply engrossed in the document she was reading, almost to the point of being oblivious to the world around her. He doubted very much she was even aware he was standing in her office doorway watching her, which of course suited him just fine. This moment of unawareness allowed him a chance to observe her without her walls up. One of the things he had learned long ago, while still attending Hogwarts as a matter of fact, you could learn a great deal about a person if you were lucky enough to catch them unawares. It allowed you to see how they behaved when they thought no one was watching them. And nine times out of ten you saw a very different person then the rest of the world was allowed to see.

Sighing heavily, Hermione set down the document and made a few notes on a stack of yellow, bound parchment he recognized as coming from the Muggle world. He loved the way many of the Muggle-born witches and wizards incorporated tools and customs from their Muggle upbringing into their everyday life. It was that type of duality and innovation that the somewhat backwards Wizarding world, he believed, could benefit from.

Finished with her notes, Hermione set aside the pad of legal paper before spinning about in her chair to rise to her feet. "Parker!" She jumped slightly, hand going to her chest when she spotted him. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to ask you if you're free for dinner this evening?"

"Sorry," she sighed, beginning to undo the clasps that held her robes together. "I have plans." She shrugged off the heavy garment and stuffed it in her shoulder bag. Parker smiled affectionately at the fetching image she made in her dove grey, pinstriped business suit. The vertical lines worked together to elongate her legs and emphasize the curves at her bust and waist.

"Do you have a business dinner?"

"No." She pulled a pin out of her hair and let the mass of curls fall around her shoulders, using her fingers to loosen the strands and ease the pain from her scalp. She took up her shoulder bag and several stacks of paper. "I'm flat hunting tonight and I need to pick up a present for Bryony."

"Ron's new niece?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Ron's new niece." She pushed her hair back off her face. "It's driving me mad. I've been racking my brains to try and think of a suitable gift. But honestly, what do you get for the little girl who already has everything?"

"Perhaps I could be of some assistance."

Hermione glanced over at him skeptically, "What do you know about babies?"

"Absolutely nothing." He admitted jovially. "But," he held up a finger, "I do know where a few flats are available. Have you tried Diagon Ally?"

Hermione blinked with surprise. "I hadn't even thought to look there."

"I can think of at least three empty flats that I've seen in the past week and I know Stewart Hawthorn is currently building a new complex that should be open within the next month. I think there are still a few vacancies with him."

Hermione's eyes glowed with sudden excitement. "What a splendid idea. How thrilling would it be to live so intimately with the magical community? To have everything one could possibly need directly outside their front door? The convenience of it all would be quite ideal."

"Does that mean you would like me to escort you?"

"Well…" she sounded hesitant.

"Ms Granger, please consider this an offer, made from one friend to another, to help. Nothing more."

"Well," she said after a moment's thought, "If I can have your word that it will remain strictly 'nothing more', then I would be delighted."

Parker smiled fetchingly, "Excellent. I'm ready to leave when you are."

"Just a…" She scrambled for a piece of parchment and her quill. She scribbled out a quick not and charmed it to fold into an airplane before it rose into the air and smoothly glided out her door. "There," She tossed the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "How do you suggest we get there?'

"Floo."

"Then we best hurry or there's going to be a que."

Parker stepped to the side allowing Hermione to pass through the door first. The two walked in silence for several minutes, neither one venturing to so much as look at the other. "There's something I don't understand." Hermione said, glancing up at him as the lift grates slid closed. "Why are you helping me? I haven't exactly been… the most _friendly_ with you."

"Because," he turned to face her, "I haven't given up all hope on you yet. I've seen what kind of person you can be and I want her, that girl, for my friend. And if friendship is all that I can have, then so be it. Besides, what kind of man would I be if I didn't help a lady in distress?" The lift grate slid open and the pair stepped off.

"The normal kind."

"Then thank Merlin my mother raised me not to be normal. And how do you know what normal is anyway? You're best friends with Harry Potter, he's about as abnormal as they come."

"Well if you exclude Harry…"

"And those Weasley men you spend time with. They're not _normal_ either."

Hermione's mouth gaped several times. "Alright, alright." She held her hands up in surrender. "I have a proficiency at attracting odd men." She roughly pushed her hair back off her face. "No wonder I'm still single."

"I've told you…"

"You'd be more than willing to rectify that?" Hermione asked with an eye roll.

"What?" he beamed at her." Have you heard me say that before?"

"Once or twice."

"And yet you still don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe very much you want to take me to dinner, I'm just not completely convinced as to your motive."

"What makes you think I have an ulterior motive?"

A smile flashed quickly across her lips. "I never said ulterior. But since you brought the subject up, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're calculating. I just haven't been able to figure out what your angle is yet. You have me half convinced you were a Slytherin while in school."

"Sorry." He laughed. "Ravenclaw. But now you have me convinced that you're different than any other girl I've ever known."

"And why is that?"

"Because you are the first one to ever last this long against my insatiable charm."

"Your insatiable charm?" Hermione chocked on a laugh as she stepped up to an open floo port and tossed in a pinch of powder. "Someone thinks very highly of himself." She stepped inside the hearth and called out her destination. Moment s later Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and into the Leaky Cauldron where Parker soon joined her. He stumbled forward when his toe caught on the grate, causing him to nearly collide with her before he managed to catch himself.

"Sorry about that." He muttered, his face coloring swiftly. "I don't know how that happened."

"Would you look at that?" Hermione smiled at the heat radiating off his cheeks. "There's a real person under that exterior."

Face still glowing, Parker straightened his robes and brushed away the soot that had gathered in transport.

"Here," Hermione stepped forward, pulling out her wand. "Allow me."

"Thank you." He smiled sheepishly as the last of the soot disappeared from his robes. "Do you need a hand?"

"No need." She turned her wand on herself and was soon looking like her normal, clean, put together self. "There." She tucked her wand away. "Shall we?"

Parker nodded. "Where first?"

"Do you have any suggestions?"

Parker's lips twitched in thought. "I know of a place near the owlrey."

"Are you sure it's all right if we stop without ringing ahead?"

"Of course. I know the owner. He won't mind."

"All right then." She nodded. "Lead on."

Together Hermione and Parker made their way to the back of the pub where the door leading to the deserted ally was located. Parker found the proper brick and they were soon stepping through the portal into the magical marketplace beyond. Parker took hold of her hand, ignoring the look of surprise Hermione sent in his direction, towing her along behind him. "This way."

Holding tight to her hand so as not to lose her in the after work crowd, Parker plowed ahead until they were standing in front of a building Hermione had never noticed, situated beside the Owl Emporium. "What do you think?" He asked, indicating the tall, shabby looking building with a nod of the head. Parker glanced over at her and burst into laughter at the undisguised distaste on her face. "You don't like it?"

Hermione looked from the crumbling brick to the cracked sidewalk and the uneven steps leading to the front door. "Is it even worth going inside?"

"Trust me," he pulled lightly on her hand, urging her up the steps behind him. "It's a glamour Devin keeps on the outside to protect his tenants." He cast the proper countercharm on the door and it eased open. "His theory is that crooks tend to overlook the shabby buildings compared to the ones that look well taken care of. But," he led Hermione over the threshold, "he does a wonderful job on the inside."

Hermione's mouth dropped open at the first glimpse of the complex's interior. The small foyer they were standing in was airy, bright and immaculately clean. The floors were a warm honey colored wood, the walls painted a clean shade of off white with the same honey wood crowning the walls and running board. The steps leading up to the next story had intricately carved spindles in the banister and a simple, elegant light fixture hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room with its gentle light.

"Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful." She admitted.

"Just wait until you see the unit." Parker began to climb and Hermione followed after him.

They reached the first landing and Parker nodded at a door with a bright, shiny, silver plaque bearing the number fourteen beside it. "That's my flat."

Hermione came to a sudden stop. "Pardon?"

"I said that's my flat."

"Parker," Hermione shook her head. "I don't think this is such a good idea."

"What do you mean?"

"Parker,"

"You're worried about having me as a neighbor."

"Well yes. I am. Come on Parker," she nudged him when he stuck his lip out in a pout. "Even you have to admit that you haven't exactly been forth coming with me. How do I really know I can trust you?"

"Ron does."

"That doesn't help you case much. Remember, I don't exactly trust him either."

"Well, it should. Besides," he hurried on when Hermione made to interrupt, "the Ministry trusts me. They trust _both_ of us. And if it makes you feel any better, the Ministry has us screened every year to asses our competency and mental stability. I've had a clean bill of health every year."

"This could still be your year."

"I had my testing two weeks ago."

Hermione twitched her lips grudgingly. "I would still fell more comfortable somewhere else."

"Okay." He nodded. "I guess I can understand that. Now let's see." He put his hand to his chin and stroked back and forth underneath his lip with his forefinger. "I also know of a place over a dress shop."

Hermione smiled with gratitude at his understanding. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it, Ms Granger." He placed his hand on the small of her back and directed her back around and down the stairs to the front door. When they reached the street they turned right and continued on down the cobbled road.

"Parker," Hermione asked, as they stepped aside to let a bedraggled woman with three small children pass. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." He led her back onto the street.

"Why do you still call me Ms Granger?"

"Sorry?"

"I've never heard you call me by my name. You always call me Ms Granger. Why is that?"

He shrugged a shoulder, "You haven't given me permission."

"I haven't?" she asked, taken aback.

"No." he smiled down at her. "You haven't." He stopped momentarily to look at a fine pair of gobstones in a store window. "Does this mean I now have that permission?"

Hermione meandered forward, hands clasped behind her back, a jaunty gape to her step. "I suppose it does."

Parker reached for her hand and clasped it in his. "It's a pleasure to meet you – Hermione ."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't be a pratt."

"I'll try my best. Well, shall we go in?"

"We're here?"

"We're here." He pulled open a door to the side of the building and waited for Hermione to step inside. "It's a two bedroom, single bath," he started to explain as he followed her up the stairs, "kitchen, dining room, lounge."

"I can't afford a two bedroom."

"Hermione," he ushered her forward when she paused. "You work for the International Law Office for the Ministry of Magic. I might not know your exact salary but I do have a rough estimate. You can afford a place like this."

"Not if I want to put money away toward the purchase of a house."

Parker shook his head and sighed with exaggeration. "Sometimes you're more of a Ravenclaw then I am. You're being too practical, Hermione. Loosen up a little. If you like a place, rent it."

"There's nothing wrong with being practical." She said haughtily. "Impractical people end up like Ron Weasley."

"You think Ron's impractical."

"Of course. He always has been."

His eyes narrowed on her. "Do you ever _talk_ to Harry and Ginny?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

"Because Ron is one of the most practical people I have ever met. In the five years that I have known him I have never seen him make a single rash decision. He thinks over every move he makes, considering all possible outcomes. It's what makes him a good leader. I have never once questioned my safety while under his leadership."

"But…but that doesn't sound like Ron. That sounds like Harry."

"People _change_ Hermione. Why is it so hard for you to believe Ron has?"

Hermione turned her head away, her eyes falling closed. "I suppose for the same reason he refuses to speak with me."

"Look, why don't we go inside, have a look around so you can tell me what you do and do not like about it, that way I'll have a better idea of what you're looking for."

Trying to capture the playful banter of before, Hermione said, "You just want to feel like you've accomplished something today."

"Well," he said with a straight face, nodding his head slightly, "I am beginning to feel a little discouraged. You couldn't throw me a bone, could you?"

Hermione played at deep concentration. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt just to look."

"So?" He asked after she had had enough time to look through all the rooms. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." She admitted. "It's quirky and charming. Just the personality I'm looking for. But it's far too big. I don't need a kitchen with that much space and I don't need a second bedroom."

"I thought maybe you could use the second bedroom as your study."

Hermione glanced over in surprise. "How did you know I would want a study?"

"I seem to recall you wondering the halls of Hogwarts, hunched over under the weight of all those books you use to carry with you. I assumed that was a trait that carried over into your personal life, not just your academic. I supposed you might want a place in your home to store all your treasures."

"I would." She agreed, "But I don't need an entire bedroom for that. This place is simply too large. This was made for a family, not for a single person."

"Something a little more intimate than?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"You'll have to give me a few days on this one. Everything I'm familiar with is at least this size."

"That's all right." She assured him. "I'm not really in a hurry. Harry and Ginny have offered me the use of their home for as long as I wish. I'm just starting to feel like I've over stayed my welcome. Especially now with the new baby at home."

"That's understandable." He held open the front door. "You're a very independent woman. I'm sure it grates on you to depend on them like that."

"Yes well, thank you. For taking the time to help me that is. It was very kind of you."

"There's no need to thank me. It was entirely my pleasure."

"Just the same." She turned to face him. "Well, as long as I'm here I might as well do that baby shopping I was talking about. And while I'm at it I think I'll stop by Flourish and Blotts. There's a new book by Robin Pennyroyal that I've been meaning to read."

"Let me escort you."

"There's no need for that. I've already taken up too much of your time as it is."

"Hermione, let me put this a different way for you. I'm offering to carry your bags all evening. Are you really willing to turn that offer down?"

"Well, when you put it that way."

Parker smiled smugly. "I knew that would work. It does every time."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she turned on her heal and walked briskly away, not bothering to wait for Parker to catch her up. "I really hope I don't regret this."

Lip caught between her teeth, head tilted to the side so that she could better read the spines of the books lining the many shelves, Hermione let her fingers graze lightly across the heavy, leather bound volumes.

"Found anything you like?"

"No." She glanced at Parker briefly before returning to her task. "But it's nice to be able to look again." She pulled a book off the shelf, flipped it open to scan a few pages before sliding it back into its place.

"Besides Pennyroyal, is there anything else you're searching for?"

"Not particularly." She looked up to find Parker's gaze. He was walking along with her on the other side of the shelving unit, keeping pace with her slow progress. "I almost never come here with a specific book in mind. I have to let the right text come to me." Her fingers stopped on an interesting title and she pulled it free of the books around it. She flipped open the cover and read the first two pages before closing it and tucking it in the crook of her arm alongside the Pennyroyal book. "You don't have to wait for me if you don't want to. I could be here a while and I'm sure this is quite tedious for you."

"It's all right." He smiled reassuringly, leaning against the bookcase, crossing his arms over the top and bracing his chin on top of them. "You're fascinating to watch."

Blushing like mad Hermione pushed her hair back off her face before continuing her journey down the aisle. She could feel his eyes following her every step.

"How many books do you have?"

Hermione looked down at the two hardbacks in her arms, before arching her brows at him.

"I mean in your collection. How many _total_ books do you own?"

Hermione stopped a moment in thought. "You know, I never counted before. I can say with quite honesty that I have a ser few."

"I'll bet you have enough to fill your own personal library."

"I will as soon as I have my own home to put them in. Right now they're all stored away in boxes. I'm just aching to get them out. Every time I walk past that stack of boxes I swear I can hear the voices of all my friends screaming at me to let them out. Oh my god," she pressed a hand to her brow in embarrassment. "I can't believe I just said that out loud."

Parker laughed heartily. "Don't worry. It's something I've always suspected about you. You know," he laughed, "I bet you drove Ron barmy at school."

Hermione glanced up at him again. "Why do you say that?"

"As long as I've known him, he's never opened a book unless he couldn't find a way out of it. I reckon that got on your nerves as well."

"Sometimes."She replaced a book she had been looking at. "He and Harry always expected me to have the right answer all the time."

"I'm sure that got very exhausting."

"No." she shook her head, smiling fondly. "Not really. Most of the time it was really quite nice. I liked having people depend on me like that."

"Really. I always hated it when people asked if they could copy my answers. I would have thought you'd be the same way."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the big things. The things that kept us alive all those years." Hermione shook her head with disbelief. "You know, looking back I realize how foolish we were as children. If I found out my child did half the things Harry, Ron and I did while we were at school I would kill him myself. And you know, the strange thing is that at the time I knew we were being reckless but I never really realized how much so."

"Would you change any of it?"

Hermione remained silent for a time as she contemplated his question. "No. I wouldn't change anything. Except…"

"Except what?'

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged. "I suppose everything that happened between Ron and me after the final battle."

"What did happen between you two?"

"Parker," she shook her head. "As much as we've shared with each other today, I'm not really comfortable discussing the more personal aspects of Ron and my relationship with you." She came to the end of the aisle and waited until Parker was once again standing in front of her. "I've hardly known you long enough to be bearing my soul."

"I'm not asking you to bare your soul. I'm just asking you to open up to me a little. One friend to another."

"Is that what we are?"

"I hope so."

Hermione nodded as she continued down the avenue of books. "Alright. As you undoubtedly know, Ron and I have always been very good at arguing with each other. You know, I don't think we made it through a single term without having a monstrous row. But somehow it never seemed to matter. We could be so angry with each other that it seemed like we could never be friends again and yet we always made up in the end. He was one of my best friends, one of the most important people in my life. Like I said, if I could take it all back…if there were some way…I just…I hate how things ended between us."

"You could change it."

"I am trying. In case you haven't noticed, Ron isn't exactly eager to speak with me. I've tried speaking with him, I really have but he gets so angry every time I do."

"Perhaps I can help."

"That's very sweet, but I don't think you can do anything to help with this."

"I can talk to him."

"And what exactly would you say?"

"That you're a kind, wonderful person that I am very quickly learning to adore."

Hermione blushed prettily. "You're being too kind."

Parker reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And you're being too modest."

Coughing uncomfortably, she stepped back out of his reach and placed her hand on the stack of books she held. "I think I have enough for today."

She wound her way through the book stacks to the counter where the clerk handled her purchase. Parker slowly moved toward the entrance and stopped with his back braced against a bare patch of wall. He turned his head and focused his attention on Hermione and the clerk. They were speaking with each other as if they were old friends, which, he realized with a start, they probably were.

After several minutes of conversing, Hermione accepted her sac full of books and rejoined Parker at the door. "Sorry about that." She apologized. "It's been a while since I've seen Rod. His oldest boy just had his own first child, a son, and he and his wife have decided to name the baby after Rod. He was so excited I just couldn't ruin his mood by telling him I was in a hurry."

"Are you in a hurry?"

"No. But I felt guilty for leaving you alone for so long."

"You seem to know him well."

"We've been on first name bases since I was eleven years old. He's a very dear man."

They stepped out of the shop and into the darkening avenue. "Can I escort you home?"

Hermione smiled playfully as she held up the heavy bag. "Only if you carry my books as well."

He accepted the sac from her hand. "With pleasure."

Hermione clasped her hands behind her back. "Have you ever been to Harry and Ginny's house?"

"No." Parker shifted the bags in his hands. "I'm afraid I haven't had the privilege. Usually I see them at Ron's."

"Then appiration is out of the question. I guess we'll just have to Floo there as well." Having made up her mind, Hermione turned with authority and briskly walked down the street toward the Leaky Cauldron. Parker watched her retreating back a moment, a satisfied smirk on his lips before hurrying forward to catch her up.

They entered the small pub together and were both immediately recognized by the innkeeper, Tom. They both waved happily and called out in greeting but continued on their way toward the fire without stopping to talk.

Hermione sprinkled some powder into the orange blaze. "Number Twelve Grimmalud Place." She told him before stepping into the fire and calling out her destination.

Feeling her body thrust into the warm, familiar tumble through space, Hermione tucked in her arms and closed her eyes, fighting against the nausea that always accompanied a journey through the Floo Network. When she felt her body jerk to a stop, she flung her arms out to brace her hands against the walls of the fireplace and stop herself from tumbling forward. The moment she gained her barring she exited the hearth so as not to be squashed when Parker arrived behind her.

"Harry! Ginny!" She called into the quiet house as the fire flared behind her. "I'm back."

Parker stepped up beside her. "Where would you like me to put these?" He held up her shopping.

Hermione glanced about. "Errr…I guess next to the wall there." She pointed to space of open wall between the fireplace and a side table. "I'll take care of them later."

The moment Parker set her bags down she took his hand and pulled him along behind her. "Come on. I want you to meet Bryony. She's the most beautiful child, I swear."

"I'm sure she doesn't hold a candle to you."

Hermione dropped his hand as she turned to face him, her hands fisting and planting on her hips. "I thought we were going to keep this strictly 'nothing more'."

"We are." He resumed walking forward, guiding her with his hand once again at the small of her back. "Can't one friend compliment another friend without her thinking he's trying to get into her knickers?"

Hermione froze a moment in shock before picking up her step and looking back over her shoulder as she outpaced him, a playful smile on her lips as she pulled open the doors to the dining room. "Parker Gale, you're going to have to do quite a bit better than that in order to get into my knockers."

The clatter of a fork falling on to a plate had Hermione whirling about. Her eyes widened with horror when she spotted Ron sitting at the table with Harry and Ginny.

Hello Everyone. Well here it is, the next chapter, sooner then I thought it would be, no doubt later then you wanted. Sorry about that. On the bright side, this absolutely horrible term is drawing to an end and hopefully I'll be able to get some real work done starting in about a week. Can't make promises, but let's hope. I was just so excited to have finished a great portion of the work I had left and that I wanted to get this out there for you. Hopefully it wasn't too terribly dreadful to read. I am sorry for the mistakes that I am sure I missed, my only excuse I am going off of about two hours of sleep from the past two nights. I really need to go to bed. Anyway, as always, thank you so very much for those of you who took the time to review. These past two weeks have been…horrific and having the reviews waiting for me in my inbox was just wonderful. And thank you so much to everyone for taking the time to read this story, I sincerely hope it's been worth it. Have a wonderful weekend, Noterwomann


	11. Buenas Noches

Chapter Eleven: _Buenas__N__oches_

A sound of distress escaped Hermione's lips. She stood rooted, her ability to think having left her suddenly. Her brain sped up trying to process what her eyes were seeing. If she hadn't been suffering under the penetrating glare of Ron's eyes she might have appreciated the comic element of the moment. Harry and Ginny were staring at her wide eyed and open mouthed, Ron's chin looked so stiff she feared it might shatter, and Si, who was completely oblivious to the adults who had gone suddenly quiet, continued to stuff potatoes into his mouth. "Ron?" she finally managed to choke.

"Ron?" Parker perked at the sound of his partner's name. "Is he here?" Parker's large hand landed on the door and pushed it open despite Hermione's panicked grip on the handle. He stepped into the room, forcing Hermione in as well, a broad smile on his face. "I didn't expect to see you here." He strode forward and clapped Ron on the shoulder.

Ron's eyes landed on Parker's hand "I could say the same for you." He frowned at it until Parker removed it and it was once again safely at his side.

"What are you doing here?" Parker asked, seemingly unaware of the tension his presences caused in the room.

"I'm having dinner with _my_ sister and brother in law." His eyes landed on Hermione briefly, the bright blue orbs glowering accusingly. "I certainly wasn't expecting you to appear. Especially with present company." Hermione cringed back at the pure malice in his voice. She watched as he bent down to remove his daughter from the high seat at his side, knowing instinctually he was preparing to make his escape at the first possible opportunity.

"Hermione and I have been flat hunting." Parker said, clasping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously. "We've had a splendid time, but sadly we were unsuccessful. Hermione is very particular, but now at least I have a rough idea of what she's in the market for."

"Hermione," Ginny said, finally finding her voice and striding forward, "We weren't expecting you back so early."

"Early?" Hermione asked, thankful for a reason to look away from Ron. The rage in his eyes was almost hypnotic. "It's nearly eight."

"Is it?" the redhead glanced toward the ornate clock she had mounted on the wall. "So it is."

"Merlin, is it really?" Parker glanced down at his wristwatch as if he didn't trust the accuracy of Harry and Ginny's clock. "Where has the time gone? It feels as though we've just left the office. I shouldn't be surprised though. I've never had so much fun while shopping before. I hope you like the present Hermione purchased for Bryony, by the by. I helped pick it out." He said proudly.

"You two went shopping together?" Ginny asked, her eyes trained on Hermione.

"We did." Parker confirmed. "After the last flat I showed her proved inadequate Hermione mentioned how she had a few errands she needed to accomplish and I offered her my bag totting services."

"Did you?" Ron stopped to face him several paces from the door.

"Of course." Parker nodded, understanding what Ron was really asking him. "_I _offered my services to _her_. What gentleman wouldn't have when offered the prospect of spending the rest of the afternoon with such an attractive escort? As I said," he turned away from Ron and addressed Hermione and Ginny. "I appointed myself official bag carrier of the afternoon and Hermione insisted that as my reward I should escort her home. Rumor has it, to which I have Hermione's absolute guarantee, that the most beautiful newborn the world has ever seen resides in this house."

Her face losing some hostility at the mention of her child, Ginny's lips twitched as she tried to fight the beam of pride that was threatening to escape. Instead she offered Parker her hand in greeting. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure, I assure you, Mrs Potter, is all mine." He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckle.

Ginny lost her inner battle and smiled delightedly as Parker released her fingers from his grasp. "That's quiet enough of that." She placed her hands on her hips, perfecting a playful stance. "Unfortunately, I've just put Bryony down for the night."

"That's all right," Parker assured her. "As beautiful as your daughter undoubtedly is, I prefer the company of more – mature women." His eyes flickered a moment to Hermione at these words before returning to Ginny. "You look splendid, by the way. If Ron didn't speak of you constantly I would have no idea you had just given birth."

Blushing heavily, Ginny waved away his compliment. "No. I'm soft and mushy around the middle, my hips are huge, parts of me are wider then they have ever been and… and you probably don't want to hear all this." Her blush darkened further with embarrassment.

"Don't be ridiculous." Parker said emphatically. "You are, and I'm sure Harry would agree, more beautiful then ever."

"Really?" Ginny awkwardly adjusted the hem of her shirt.

"I've been trying to tell you that for days." Harry said, coming to his feet having finished cleaning the food off of Si's face and hands.

"Yes, but you're my husband." Ginny objected as Harry carried his son to the window where a large brown owl had started pecking at the glass. "You have to say that."

Harry pushed the window open and the large bird flew inside, over Harry's head, to land on the back of the chair nearest to Ron. Harry rejoined the group as Ron used one hand to untie the scroll from around the impatient bird's leg.

Harry came to Ginny's side and wrapped an arm around her waist. "I think you're stunning." He said as he pressed a kiss to the spot just bellow her left ear where she was most sensitive. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm your husband." He whispered, "I happen to believe it."

"You're a very lucky man, Harry."

Harry smiled contently as his arm tightened around his wife's waist, pulling her snug against his body. "I know."

"I hate to break this up," Ron said, though he didn't sound a bit of it, "but Parker and I are going to have to leave now. It looks as if one of our missing Death Eaters has finally left us a trail. We head out tonight."

Nodding assertively, Parker turned back to Hermione, the playful gleam gone from his eyes. It was apparent that time for social pleasure was over. He was all confident Auror now. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm afraid I am going to have to end this evening early."

"That's alright." She assured him. "I understand."

"Walk me out?"

Hermione nodded and Parker placed a hand comfortably on her back to lead her. Ron watched them, eyes narrowed irately as they disappeared through the door they had minutes before burst through. He whirled on Ginny. "What the hell was that?"

"Sorry?" she gapped.

"That!" He pointed at the empty doorway. "Them! What the hell?"

"I…I don't know. It appears they might have…"

"Don't even say it." Ron's voice was laced with warning.

"You asked me what I thought."

"This is completely unacceptable." Ron whirled around and began to pace. "This cannot be allowed to continue."

"Ron. Ron!" Ginny said more firmly as she drew him to a stop by putting her hands on either side of his face and forcing him to look at her. "What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing." He pulled his face free of her hands as he took a step back. "I just don't see why Parker is wasting his time pursuing her when she's only going to trample …What I mean to say is... I have to go." He turned toward the door, shifting the baby in his arms. "I have to stop by Mum's and see if she'll watch the baby."

"Ron." Ginny reached out to stop him again. "You don't have to go to Mum's. We'll take her."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course." She held out her arms. "What's one more baby?"

"Thanks Gin." He handed the dark haired child into her arms after smothering her face in kisses and hugging her close. "I'll miss you sweet heart. You be good for your aunt Ginny and your uncle Harry. I owe you, Gin."

"I'll hold you to that."

Parker and Hermione were standing near the front door when Ron came into the hall. Despite himself, his eyes instantly went to where her hand was resting against Parker's arm and he had to force back the desire to rush forward and yank it off. "Make sure you stay safe." He heard her murmured before she turned and looked Ron in the eye. "Both of you."

He nodded curtly before moving past them to open the door and step outside.

"Don't worry," Parker's fingers tightened reassuringly, "I'll look after him."

"Don't trouble yourself on my account. I just don't want his daughter to lose another parent."

"I'll look out for him anyway. Good night, Hermione. Harry. Ginny." He nodded to the couple who joined them in the hall.

"Good night, Parker." Hermione eased the door closed behind him, hearing the soft pop of disappiration just before the door slid closed. "I didn't know it was possible to dissaperate that quietly."

"Sure." Harry came to stand by her. "It's part of the Auror training course. It's one of the first things they have to pass. We spend weeks mastering it."

"Can you still apperate that quietly?"

"Quieter. But, I have the advantage of directing our new candidates through the process."

"Harry," Ginny stepped forward, her eyes never leaving Hermione, "Would you mind bringing the children upstairs and readying them for bed? I'd like a moment alone with Hermione."

'Yeah. Sure." He nodded, setting Si on his feet so that he could accept the black haired baby from his wife. "Where should I put her?"

"Conjure another crib in Bryony's room. She'll only be here for a few days."

"Right." He nodded. "Come on, Si." He offered the little boy his hand. "Why don't we go upstairs and read the bunny book?"

Si pulled his thumb out of his mouth to take his father's hand. Together father and son climbed the stairs, Harry patiently waiting for Si's little legs to climb each step.

"What were you thinking?" Ginny hissed as Harry and Si rounded the landing and disappeared.

"What are you talking about?"

"How could you flaunt Parker in front of Ron like that?"

"I wasn't flaunting anyone." Hermione said, her hackles beginning to rise.

"Then why did you bring him home while Ron was here? That was…"

"I didn't know Ron was going to be here. How was I to know you were having Ron in for diner? You didn't tell me. If I had known I would have turned down Parker's offer of escort and come straight home to confront him, which you undoubtedly know, and would have forced him to speak with me. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the one acting like a child. That honor belongs to your brother. Besides, aren't you the one who told me I should get out there and…and…test the waters?"

"Yes. But I didn't want you to torment my brother in the process."

"I very much doubt he give a wit what I do with my personal life."

"He cares more then you realize."

"Ginny," Hermione took a deep breath as she grasped her friends hand and squeezed it tight. "Listen to me. I know you still secretly harbor the hope that Ron and I will fall madly in love and get married and live happily ever after. Don't deny it." She held up a warning finger when Ginny made to deny it. "But it's not going to happen. I don't want it to happen. I just want to be his friend again. That's all. And if he's uncomfortable with the idea of me seeing other men, then he is going to have to learn to live with it because I am not going to live my life alone and I am not going to stop being friends with you and Harry. Besides that, Parker and I are just friends. That's all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go and Floo Bea"

Ginny watched Hermione walk up the steps, her back ramered straight. She couldn't believe how unbelievably stubborn Hermione was being. She knew full well that Hermione has been in love with Ron five years ago just as she knew she was at least half in love with him now. And that was nothing compared to the passion she had seen in Ron's eyes moments ago when he was speaking about Hermione.

She wished she could think of a way to push the two together, but there was a surmountable obstacle standing in their way. Ron.

If Hermione was stubborn, Ron was immovable. He had been amassing an impenetrable brick wall around his heart for the past five years in an attempt to prevent anyone from hurting him again. In the process, however, he had also unintentionally trapped all the old emotions and feelings deep inside as well. It was the only way to explain his questionable reaction every time he came into contact with her. Hermione still had the ability to get under his skin. It was almost poignantly ironic. Ron had built the wall around his heart in an attempt to protect it from Hermione and yet she was the only one who had the ability to find his weakness and penetrate it.

Ron did not like having her home. That much was apparent. Never before in her life had Ginny seen him this uneasy and tense. He didn't smile very much anymore, not that he really had over the past five years. It wasn't until recently that his grin had started to reappear with more frequency and now it was gone again. It was almost as if he sensed the fact that he was losing ground where Hermione was concerned and had become more stoic in his attempt to refortify his protection. The only way the hypothetical walls were coming down was if Ron took them down himself, and there didn't seem to be much chance of that happening peacefully.

What really needed to happen was for Ron and Hermione to bash down the walls together in one earth shattering row like they use to. True, they might hate each other for a while afterward, but it was the only way she could think of that they could be friends again. It was how it always worked in the past. And as much as she would love to find the fuse that would ignite that particular explosion and get it done with, she knew she couldn't. She was helpless to do anything but stand back and watch and be there to help pick up the pieces.

Sighing heavily, Ginny cast a spell to turn out all remaining lights on the main floor. Placing her hand on the banister, Ginny began climbing the stairs. The rest of the house could wait until morning. She came to a stop outside Si's room, being drawn towards it by the gentle tenor of Harry's voice. Through the open gap she could see Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the bed with Si sitting in his lap holding the book Harry was reading to him. Ginny smiled as she recognized the closing lines of Benjamin Bunny. The small picture book was Si's very favorite and out of all the books in his collection it was the one he wanted read the most. He even knew the book so well that he could anticipate the page turns, and did so with nothing short of a child like reverence.

"Alright Si," Harry said closing the book. "Time for bed."

Ginny watched, a smile on her lips, as the small boy climbed off his father's lap and scrambled up into the bed. Without waiting for his father's instructions to budge over, Si moved as close to the wall as he could so that Harry could climb on the bed with him and lay on his back so that they were both looking at the ceiling with their arms crossed behind their heads in a matching pose. "What story should I tell you tonight?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at Si. "Have I told you about my first Quidditch match?" Si looked up at him with his big green eyes and blinked. "No? I was a first year. The youngest seeker in a century to play for a house team."

Backing slowly away from the door so as not to disturb them, Ginny turned and made her way to the bedroom she shared with Harry, leaving them to their nightly bout of story telling. It was unbearably sweet and heartbreaking at the same time. Every night before Si went to bed, Harry would lay with him, like he was now, and tell him a story of one of the many adventures he had had while in school. Si would listen quietly until the end of the story, and somehow, miraculously, he would stay awake until the very end, even if it meant fighting off the sleep that was creeping in. Ginny knew with almost certainty that it was a tradition that would continue up until Si left for school and one that had been born out of the desire to ensure that Si knew his father encase the very worst should happen. Harry didn't want Si to suffer the same way he had by not knowing his parents.

Once inside her room, Ginny set about getting ready for bed, first brushing out her hair and plaiting it into one long rope down the middle of her back, then disappearing into the adjoined bathroom to clean her teeth and face. By the time she returned to the bedroom Harry was sitting on the end of the bed, removing his shoes and socks.

"Is Si asleep?"

Harry glanced up at her. "Yeah. Out like a light as soon as I finished my story. How are you feeling?" He held his hand out and pulled her onto his lap the moment their fingers touched.

"Tired." She admitted as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I'll have to get up in an hour or so to feed Bryony and –"

"I'll get up with you."

"No." Ginny shook her head, removing it from his shoulder so that she could properly look at him. "There's no need for the both of us to be tired tomorrow when there really is nothing you can do to help at this point."

"I don't think it's fair you do it all yourself."

"I don't mind really." She slipped off his lap and moved to the hamper. "I actually like having that time alone with her where it's just us." She pulled off each article of clothing and dropped it inside, holding the lid open so that Harry could do the same.

"Oh, I see how it is." He pulled off his trousers and threw them in with the rest of the clothes while Ginny pulled on the shirt she had stolen from Harry years ago and slept in almost every night. "You just don't want me around."

"If that'll keep you out of the nursery and in bed, then yes, I don't want you around."

"Careful love," Harry took hold of her and pulled her suddenly to him, holding her so that their bodies fitted snuggly together, "or I might get the idea you don't want me around."

"Well," she placed a hand on his chest and played with the sprinkle of dark hair that feathered his torso, "I suppose you are useful to keep around. You do get me a spot at the best tables in the nicest restaurants."

"Wench," Harry fell playfully onto the bed, taking Ginny with him, kissing her soundly as they fell. "If all you wanted was a good meal ticket you could always use your brother."

"True." She nodded with mock seriousness, "But he isn't nearly as fun to look at. And," she placed a kiss to his chin, "besides being unbelievably attractive, you also happen to have the added perk of being one hell of a fantastic shag."

Chuckling with satisfaction, Harry leaned forward and drew her into a hungry kiss. "You're not so bad yourself, Mrs Potter." He whispered in her ear before pressing a kiss to her neck.

Ginny tipped her head back on a sigh, lifting her chin and exposing more of her neck to Harry's touch. "I love it when you call me that." Harry drew back to look at her. "I waited a long time to have that particular privilege."

"I've made that up to you, haven't I love?"

Ginny smiled as she reached up to brush his black hair out of his eyes. "In excess." She assured him, smiling contently when the anxiety melted from his vivid eyes.

Harry planted one final kiss on her lips before rolling off her and to his feet. "So what was so important I had to leave the room so you could talk to Hermione alone?"

Ginny let out a harsh sigh as she crawled to the head of the bed where she tugged back the covers so she could slip between the sheets. "I needed to speak to her about the insensitive way she's been behaving around Ron.

Harry raised a curious brow at her while he tugged on his bottoms. "Did I hear you right?"

Ginny crossed her legs under the blankets. "I'm aware Ron has been less then civil with her, but at least he hasn't gone and flaunted any women in front of her."

"Who would he flaunt? He hasn't given a single woman a second glance since Hermione left."

"Precisely." She flipped back the covers on Harry's side of the bed so that he could crawl in beside her. "He's obviously not over his feelings for her and Hermione can't be unaware of that. And so it's simply cruel of her to bring her dates home, in the off chance he might be here, especially when said date if suppose to be one of his best mates. And how Parker can even conceive of the notion to pursue her like he has is unthinkable. Isn't there suppose to be some ancient male code of conduct you all adhere to when it comes to matters such as this?"

"Ginny," Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her gently onto her back and then flush with his body. "Know that I say this with the highest regard of your feelings, shut up and go to sleep."

"But-"

"No. It's none of our business how those two choose to deal with their issues. It was something I leaned to deal with in school. The more you push them toward reconciliation the more they dig their heels in. The only thing we can do is be patient, listen when they want to talk, which they usually don't, and wait for them to come to terms on their own. There's nothing else we can do."

Ginny turned into Harry's body and tucked her chin into his shoulder. "What if they don't reconcile? I hate seeing them unhappy like this."

Harry sighed and pressed a kiss to her crown. "If they are meant to be together they will find a way to work this out."

"Harry," Ginny used a finger to draw circles on his chest. "I was the one who told Hermione to start seeing other guys. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"It was." He said simply after a moments pause.

"Really?" Ginny propped herself up on her elbow. "At first I thought so too. It was the advice she gave me concerning you. But after seeing Ron's reaction I am not so certain anymore."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I think you were right. Ron's always gone insanely jealous anytime another bloke has so much as looked twice at her. Becoming jealous might just be what he needs to get angry enough to start yelling at her. If that happens they might actually hatch everything out."

"Or," Ginny said sadly, "It might end their friendship forever."

* * *

_"So let me see if I understand the situation. You are upset because he caught you flirting with Parker Gale?"_

"_I do not know if you can call it flirting. It was more…playful bantering."_

Beila raised her brows skeptically. _"It matters not what you call. Why are you letting this upset you?"_

_"You did not see his face."_

_"I do not need to. I do not care. Why do you let him affect you like this? You told me you were finished with him."_

_"I am."_

_"Mio.__ Do not lie to me."_

Hermione lowered her head shamefully. _"I did not think it would be this difficult. I suppose it is true, you never fully forget your first love."_

_"Then stay away from. Do not give him the chance to reclaim that hold over you."_

_"__I __can not__ cut him out of my life Bea. I tried that. __I miss him. I would rather have him in my life as a friend over not at all. And as long as we both remain friends with Harry, I will never be able to cut him from my life."_

Beila's head bobbed in the fire for several moments before she met Hermione's eyes once again. _"I wish you would come home."_

Hermione sighed as she wrapped her arms around her knees and drew them up close to her chest. "_I am home."_

_"Is there no one in England you can talk with? Who will watch out for you while I __can not__?"_

_"No."_ Hermione shook her head sadly. _"Everyone here I am close to is close with him also. It __would be…__ uncomfortable.__ Besides, I have you. I do not need anyone else."_

_"Yes." _Bea sighed. _"You have me."_

_"It is becoming late." _Hermione glanced at the clock sitting on the mantle. _"I think I will go and sleep."_

_"Mio!"_The dark haired girl called when her friend began to rise to her feet. "Keep strong." She tried tentatively in English. "You will not always be alone."

Hermione smiled her gratitude. _"__Buenas __noches__."_

_"__Buenas __noches__."_

The fire flickered and Beila's head disappeared from the flame. Hermione finished climbing to her feet and moved to the bed where she sat and unseeingly stared at the wall. How had her life come to this? How could she have let so many years pass without trying to mend her relationship with Ron? It was no wonder he was angry with her. She would be angry too. She was angry. But why was it up to her to try and mend their relationship? But she knew why. It was because Ron wouldn't. And while she recognized the wisdom in Bea's advice, she knew she couldn't cut Ron out of her life. It was impractical to even consider. As long as she remained friends with Harry, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley family, their paths would continue to cross and she was no more willing to give them up then Ron was.

But perhaps it was time for her to try a new tactic, seeing as confrontation did not appear to work. Trying to force the issue with Ron wasn't making any headway, a part of her knew it never would, and the tension that ensued every time they were in the same room together wasn't acceptable either. They had no right to make the others as uncomfortable as they did. Really there was only one option left. She need to act as if nothing had ever happened and treat him like she would any one of her other friends. It would be difficult of course, Ron would resist her every attempt of friendship, but she would no longer put herself, or her friends, through this if she could avoid it.

Mind made up, Hermione rose to her feet and quickly dressed into her nightwear. Once her hair was pulled back and plaited low on her scalp, she made for the wash room where she would scrub her face and clean her teeth.

Carrying her bathroom tote with her, she made her way down the hall but stopped at the sound of whimpering coming from Bryony's room. Hesitating for a moment while she considered leaving the baby alone for Ginny to handle or going in to check on her, she finally set the tote on the floor outside the room and went in. She came to a sudden stop when she spotted the second crib and remembered that Ron's daughter would be staying with them while he was on his mission.

Hermione stepped further into the room and followed the sound of whimpering to the new crib that was set up against the opposite wall of Bryony's. She peered over the rail inside and found Ron's daughter staring up at her in the darkness, her eyes bright with tears, her cheeks wet.

Hermione leaned over the crib and crossed her arms on the rail. She stared intently at the little girl for several minutes, observing her every feature before sighing heavily. "I can't believe Ron is a dad." She reached down and soothingly stroked the tear stained cheek, brushing away some of the wetness. "It's strange. I don't see a bit of him in you. No freckles. Small nose. Black hair and violet eyes. I always thought the Weasley genes were the most dominant, they all look exactly alike. You must take after your mother. You know, I have never seen purple eyes before. I knew it was possible of course, but I had never seen it. I think you will be a very beautiful young lady someday."

The child's soft sobs continued, her chest shaking with each unsteady breath.

"You know, I don't even know what your name is or who your mother was. And I can't very well ask Ginny or Harry or any of the other Weasleys. How embarrassing would that be to ask your aunty what your name is when I've known about you as long as I have. But then again we have never been formally introduced. I'm Hermione, by the way. I use to be best friends with your dad. I use to know everything about him. In fact, I think I knew him best." Hermione swallowed audibly. "I thought he was really very wonderful. But er… he didn't seem to think the same about me." She forced a sad smile on her lips.

"Would you listen to me talk to you like any of this even matters anymore. I'm sure your dad would not be happy to learn I had dared talk to you. He's terribly mad at me as a matter of fact." Hermione tilted her head slightly to the side. "You wouldn't happen to know why he's mad at me would you?" The baby blinked at her, causing two more tears to roll silently down her cheeks. "Of course you couldn't answer me that even if you had the ability to talk. I understand completely. The bond between father and daughter is a very special one. Believe me, I know. Before I left for Hogwarts I was very close with my dad. We aren't so close anymore. It was hard, him being a muggle, me being a witch. I was gone almost the entire year at Hogwarts and the last few years I spent more time with your family then I did with my parents. And now I live completely in the magic world and dad tries to understand, God love him he does, but he just can't. You, luckily, won't have that problem. Your daddy is a wizard so he'll always understand you."

Seeing that the child was still distraught and sensing her need to be held, Hermione reached into the crib and lifted her up, nestling her into her shoulder. "We don't have to tell you dad I held you. We'll just keep this out little secret." Swaying gently as she walked, she made for the rocking chair set in a dark corner safe from the light of the door or window. She eased into the seat, expecting the wooded spindles to groan as they accepted her weight, but it remained miraculously quiet. Hermione smiled when she realized someone must have cast a permanent silencing charm on the chair for that reason.

Pushing her feet against the ground she set the chair into motion. She moved the child so that she was cradled against her stomach and ran a soothing hand along her spine like she had seen Ron do that day in the hospital and found it had the soothing affect desired. "Don't worry, little girl," she soothed, "Your daddy will be home soon. You'll see. You'll hardly have missed him."

* * *

All she wanted to do was go home, climb into bed, and sleep until all the weariness was gone from her body. The past two days at the Ministry had been two of her most grueling yet. While Ron, Parker and the rest of the Alpha Squad were in Eastern Europe tracking their escaped Death Eater, she was trapped at the Ministry making sure all the legal channels were covered before they caught him and tried to extradite him back into England. And if the hectic schedule she was being forced to keep at work were not enough, she had been up half the night for the past two, calming Ron's child and rocking her until she fell asleep, not that she really minded the last. She found her hours spent rocking the baby to sleep almost soothing, but she did not care for the lack of sleep it caused her.

Putting down her quill a moment to rub at the mounting pain in her neck, Hermione turned over her wrist to glance at her watch. It was nearly nine o'clock. She should have gone home hours ago.

Looking at the last of the documents she needed to finish in order to get the Alpha Squad's clearance, she mentally calculated how long it would take. Deciding that she could finish first thing in the morning, she gathered her things together and made for the designated appiration area.

Arriving with a pop in the Grimmauld Places foyer, she wasted no time dropping her belongings in their usual spot on the hall table before turning and mounting the steps to the upper floors.

"Hermione!" She heard her name called as she stepped onto the first landing.

"I'm not hungry, Ginny." She called over the banister. "I'm just going to go to bed tonight."

Ginny stepped into the foyer, a sleeping Bryony in her arms. "Are you certain?"

"Yes. I really am very tired."

"That's unfortunate. You have a guest here who's been waiting for you."

"A guest?" Hermione asked with mounting disbelief and aggravation. Why was everything going against her today?

"I really think you ought to come down. She's been waiting nearly three hours."

"Three hours?" She turned and hurried herself down the stairs. "Why didn't you just send her on her way and had me get back to her when I could?"

"Because," Hermione froze mid-step, "It was a long journey. And I worked very hard to make it possible."

Hermione threw herself at the banister, bending herself in half to look over the rail. "Bea!" She shouted, all weariness forgotten at the sight of her friend. "Oh my God," She took off at a run, hurtling herself down the remaining steps, her impractical shoes sliding on the smooth floor of the foyer in her haste to get to her friend.

The two girls threw themselves into each other's arms and hugged furiously, rocking back and forth in their excitement. _"What are you doing here?" _Hermione asked when they finally pulled apart. She held tight to her friend's arms as if she were afraid if she would let go the Spanish girl would disappear.

_"You were so sad. I knew you needed me here with you. I asked for Friday and Monday off and here I am."_

_"I a__m so glad you are here."_ Hermione pulled her friend into another hug. _"I __can not__ believe you did this."_

_"You would have done the same for me."_

_"Si," _Hermione agreed,_ "I would have."_

"Well," Ginny said, drawing out the word to not only gain their attention but remind them subtly that she did not speak Spanish, "I'll just leave you two at it then. Harry's already upstairs and I'll be joining him, so you two feel free to play catch up any way you wish without worrying about disturbing anyone. Do what ever you need to do. So, I'll bid you both good night. It was a pleasure to finally meet you Beila."

"And you as well."

_"She is very nice." _Beila said as Ginny rounded the corner of the second landing and disappeared from sight. _"She has played host to me for hours without complaint. She was too kind. Harry too. I can see why you like them both. They are wonderful people."_

_"Yes, they are." _Hermione strung her arm through Beila's and steered her toward the kitchen. _"Suddenly, I am not so tired. I am hungry."_

_"Wonderful. I have always wanted to taste this dreadful English cuisine I have heard so much of."_

_"I take offense to that. English food might not have the spice of Spanish, but no one can cook like Molly __Weasley__."_ Hermione pushed open the door to the kitchen and prompted Bea to take a seat while she began to dig through the cupboards and the icebox. _"I am afraid you will have to wait to try our dreadful cuisine. Tonight we feast." _She returned to the table, arms laden with an assortment of chocolate goodies and biscuits which she poured into one large heap in front of her friend. _"Now is the time for chocolate."_

_"Mio, you are evil. You know my weakness."_

_"At least it is one that we share." _Hermione pulled a stack of chocolate covered digestives out of their tube shaped packaging and placed them on a napkin in front of herself . She snapped the first biscuit in half and popped one half into her mouth and closed her eyes as she savored the taste. _"These are my favorite."_

_"What is it?"_

_"__Muggle__ treat. Try one." _She angled the tube toward Bea who tentatively pulled one free and nibbled at the rounded edge.

Bea's eyes grew large as she took another bite. _"That is good."_

_"See." _Hermione crammed another biscuit between her lips. _"I still __can not__ believe you are here."_

_"I have always wanted to see England. And I really believed you needed me to come."_

_"I did. I hate that you are so far away."_

_"I am here now. Now talk."_

Hermione sat up in surprise. _"What do you want me to say?"_

_"Why do not start by admitting that you are in love with this Ronald __Weasley__."_

"What?" Hermione gapped with shock and disbelief, reverting to her native English in surprise. "That's ridiculous. I am not in love with Ronald Weasley."

_"Of course you are.__" _Bea said dismissively."_Why else would you speak of him every time you contact me? He is all you ever talk about and I believe he is all you think about also."_

_"N__o. He makes my crazy. I have no one here to vent too. T__hey all think he is so wonderful__A__ll I have is you."_

_"If you had no feelings for him there would be no reason for you to vent to me. He would not have the power to make you crazy."_

_"That is absurd. You do not know what you are talking about."_

_"If you insist."_

_"Yes." _Hermione nodded. _"I do."_

_"Perhaps there is someone else?"_

Hermione snorted with disbelief. _"Like who? __Parker?"_

_"Exactly."_

_"No, no, no." _Hermione shook her head. _"You have that all wrong. Parker and I are only friends."_

_"You told me you flirt with him."_

_"I do. But he flirts with all females."_

_"And you said he is handsome."_

_"I did, however…"_

_"And he is charming?"_

_"You know he is. I already told you that."_

_"And he seems to like you very much. If you are finished with Ronald,__ as you say,__ why have you not accepted Parker's invitation to have dinner?"_

Hermione set aside the biscuit she had been nibbling and lowered her head so that Beila could not see the pain, fear and uncertainty she knew must be clouding her eyes. "Because," she croaked, "I'm scared."

Bea reached across the table to grip Hermione's hand and squeeze it comfortingly. "What are you scared of, Mio?"

Hermione shook her head. "You'll think I'm being foolish."

"I will not. Tell me."

"I was so in love with him." She admitted after several minutes of silence where Bea sat quietly and continued to comfortingly hold her had. "I had been in love with him for a very long time. And because of that he's hurt me a great deal over the years. But nothing he ever did hurt so much as the realization that he had used me, rejected me and then cast me aside."

"How, Mio? How did he use you?"

Hermione shook her head adamantly, pulling her hands free of Bea's. _"It is not important." _She returned to Spanish. _"It does not matter anymore."_

_"I think it does."_

_"No."_ Hermione shook her head again. _"He made me feel weak and I did not like that. I will not allow him or anyone to make me feel that way again."_

_"Sometimes it is necessary to make ourselves vulnerable to obtain the things that will make us__ most__ happy."_

_"I am not talking about being made to feel vulnerable, though I do not like that either. I speak of being made to feel weak. I will not allow that to happen to me again."_

_"Very well."_Beila nodded. _"I understand. I do think you should give Parker a chance, though."_

_"Why?"_

Beila shrugged. _"If he is your friend he will not want to hurt you and can be used as practice for __who ever__comes__ next__"_

_"You want me to use him?"_

_"No.__" _she shook her head._"__I want you to give him a chance. You never know what may happen."_

_"I will think about it."_

_"That is all I ask. I suppose you must work tomorrow?__ I thought of __Flooing__ you and letting you know my plans so you could take time off work. But I realized you never take time off work so it would not matter either way. Besides, I thought it would be more fun if it were a surprise.__"_

_"__It was wonderful finding you hear as a surprise. It was exactly what I needed. And __I__ do__ need to go in __to work in __the morning.__ There are some documents I need to finish tomorrow.__ But I might be able to make it half a day."_

_"That would be nice.__" _Bea smiled._"__I would like you to show me…._Die-a-gone Alley."

"Diagon Alley? _I can show you that."_Hermione glanced down at her wrist watch. _"__But, i__f I am going to be awake tomorrow to show you around I need to sleep. Where are you staying?"_

_"I was going to stay in an inn but Ginny told me I was being foolish and that I must stay here. She has already shown me where my room is located."_

_"You go ahead." _Hermione motioned her out of the door. _"I want to make sure this is all put away before Ginny wakes up__ in__ the morning. I hate leaving a mess."_

_"I can help."_

_"No. You are my guest. Please. I will see you in the morning."_

_"If you are certain?"_

_"I am."_

_"Alright. __Buenas __noches__, Mio__."_

_"__Buenas __noches__, Bea__."

* * *

_

**Hello Everyone. I am so sorry for the long wait that I put you all through. Life has been kicking me down for the past month and a half and it's made it very difficult to write. I am also now coming up on the end of my term and I'm finishing up my exams and preparing to head home for the Holidays, at which point I expect to get a lot done. I can't make any promises of course, no one knows what's in store for us so how can I, but I'll do my best to be more prompt.**

**I also wanted to take an extra moment to thank everyone who reviewed once again. Like I said, life has not been good to me recently and having your reviews some days made all the difference in the ****world. I love opening my e-mail to find my inbox filled with reviews. It brings my joy beyond expression, so thank you.**

**Thank you as well to all of you nameless readers. It's wonderful to know you are out there, hopefully enjoying my work. Hoping you all enjoyed this chapter, ****Noterwomann

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	12. The Naming Ceremony

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You are all so amazing. I love you. Thank you for your understanding and well wishes. Life is better now but still busy. I am currently getting ready to travel overseas to finish off my education abroad. I am very excited. I don't really know what my schedule is going to be like, but I will have computer and internet access, so I will continue posting like always, but there might be a loll as I get settle in and there might not be. We'll just have to see.

Some of you expressed your disbelief that Hermione would be unaware of the truth of the baby paternity. That's actually based off a real life experience of mine. There was girl who was some of my friends and she started spending a lot of time with us. I never caught her name and suddenly she was my friend and I didn't know how to ask her what her name was. I was embarrassed that I had known this girl for as long as I did and I didn't know. The more time she spent with my group of friends the better I got to know her and the more I would talk to her and the worse I would feel. It's a horrible feeling to know that the only way you can talk to someone is by waiting for eyes contact because you don't know what to call them. I know this makes me sound like a hen-wit, but I promise I'm not. That was the one and only time that ever happened to me. Anyway, I know her name now her name now and that's all that matters. So in regards to Hermione, she feels like she should know the baby's name and who her mother is. She's known about the baby for months so it would be very uncomfortable to ask, just like it would have been for me. Like me, she is waiting to hear it and hope that it happens sooner than later. I hope that settles any questions you might have on the subject. So, on that note, Happy Reading. I hope you all enjoy it.

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Chapter Twelve: The Naming Ceremony

The air was bitterly cold and the wind whipped through the alcove of rock where Ron and his team of Aurors remained hidden cutting through their clothes like frozen rain. Felix wrapped his fingers painfully around his mug, clutching it tight in a vain attempt to glean some warmth.

"He's still not talking?"

Felix glanced up and smiled with gratitude as Gwen Mathews added fresh brew to his cup. He took a hearty sip as Gwen lowered herself to the ground and pulled the blanket slung over her shoulders tighter around her body.

"No." Felix pulled out his wand and renewed the warming spell he had cast on himself before doing the same for Gwen. "You don't happen to know what's happened, do you?"

"No." Gwen held her own mug close to her face, letting the heat rising out of the mouth warm her cold skin. "Parker acts like nothing's wrong and I don't have the nerve to ask Ron. He looks livid."

"Have they ever been like this before?"

Gwen drank steadily from her mug as she thought back over the five years she had known them. "No." She shook her head. "They've always been on friendly terms as far as I can remember."

The two lapsed into easy silence and Felix refocused his attention on Parker and Ron. The two men were both taking shelter behind an outcropping of rock a short distance away. Ron's back was to his team as he looked out into the blackened night, while Parker sat on the ground, his body pressed tight to a large rock that offered him more protection from the cold.

"Should we be worried this is going to affect our mission?"

Gwen's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Ron and Parker are both professionals. I assure you they will not allow their personal life to interfere with their job."

"I'm sorry." Felix sank back against the rock. "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just nervous. I can feel the tension between them and its setting me off. I just need to vent a little."

"Well, don't let anyone else hear you questioning their leadership. It wouldn't do to put anyone else off as well." She topped off her mug and breathed in the heavy scent. She loved the smell of coffee. "I hope we catch the bastard soon. I hate this place."

Felix clanked his mug against hers in mock salute. "Agreed."

Teeth beginning to chatter, Ron pulled out his wand and cast another warming charm on the blanket he had wrapped tight around his body. He was hating this place more and more by the second. After four days of chasing Malacar Amadeus through the frozen tundra of Taymyr, and being on less then friendly terms with Parker, something that bothered him a great deal, he was about ready to go home and leave Amadeus to the elements. Anyone mad enough to come here of their own free will deserved to die from the frigid cold.

Behind him he heard the gravel shift as Parker readjusted the position of his legs. "Nasty weather they have here."

Ron pulled the blanket tighter and continued to search the distant hills for anything that seemed out of place.

Parker kept his expression blank though there was a slight twitch to his lips. "You know, it's warmer if you don't stand in the open."

"It isn't that bad." Ron said with resignation, his voice barely heard above the sound the wind made howling off the rocks.

"Merlin," Parker smiled. "He speaks."

Ron turned and frowned with annoyance. "We've been in worse. Northern Scotland has got to get about this cold in winter."

"That's unlikely. But the fact is that its summer now. It isn't meant to be this cold."

"Well," Ron said as he stepped forward to accept a refill of coffee from Gwen, "take comfort in that as cold as we are Amadeus is suffering more."

"Thank you, Gwen." Parker nodded at the dark skinned girl as she stopped to top off his mug. "And why should I take comfort in someone else's suffering?" He asked when they were left alone once again.

"Because," Ron drank deeply, savoring the way he could feel the hot liquid slide down his throat. "Amadeus obviously knows were on his track, he wouldn't have stopped using magic otherwise. There's also a good chance he has no idea how to make a fire the muggle way and is hopefully stupid enough to try. Furthermore, he has to know were closing in."

"Again, why is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"Because, he's cold, he's hungry and he's panicky. Sooner or later he's going to slip up or give in and then we'll have him and we can all go home."

Parker sighed with contentment at the thought. He leaned against the wall of stone at his back, trying to imagine what it would be like to soak in a hot shower. "I can hardly wait to be home." He let his mind wonder further and his lips slipped into the smile Ron recognized as the one he always wore when he was about to talk about his latest lady friend.

Immediately abandoning the truce he had resigned himself to, the redhead's eyes narrowed into a deep scowl. "No doubt Granger's the reason. Can't wait to get into her _knickers_ I expect."

Parker's eyes snapped open and his smile deepened into a wicked grin. "Untwist your own, Weasley. It'll be a long time before she'll let me in there. Not for a lack of trying on my part, I assure you, but you know how she is."

"No," Ron said curtly. "Obviously I don't. Or, you must not be trying very hard."

Parker leaned forward in surprise, bracing his forearms on his knees. "Why do you say that?"

"Never mind." Ron gulped down a mouthful of the dark brown liquid and cursed as his tongue burned from the heart of it.

"No, no, no." Parker's face contorted with interest. "You brought the subject up. Have you been in her knickers, Ron?"

"You know me better than that." He said evenly, diverting his eyes from his partner's perceptive gaze.

"Better then what?"

"Then to ask me a ridiculous question like that." Ron snapped.

"Why is that so ridiculous?" Parker pursued. "You two were very _close_ at Hogwarts."

"And we're not now. What's your point?"

"You never did tell me why you and Hermione stopped talking to each other."

"Parker," there was a cold edge to Ron's voice. "That's enough. Please. Leave it alone. And for that matter, leave her alone as well."

Parker watched him a moment, his head tilted to one side in contemplation. "No." He settled back, his fingers once again curling around the warm mug. "I don't think I will. I like her, Ron. I think Hermione is charming, beautiful, witty, intelligent, a great deal of fun to flirt with." He lifted his mug to his lips. "Give me one fair reason why I should."

"Because," Ron snapped, "I asked you too."

Parker paused a moment, his lips pressed together, holding the hot liquid on his tongue. He swallowed it slowly before answering. "Normally, that would be enough. But in this case I'm afraid it's not. If you could give me one, straight forward reason, I might consider, but…" he shrugged, "your arguments have been more than lacking. I'm a big boy, Ron. I can take care of myself."

Growling with annoyance Ron turned on his heal and walked out of the protective alcove the wall of rock made. The wind pounding through the rocks tore at his clothes and swept the blanket back away from his body like a cape.

Sighing heavily Parkers set aside his mug and climbed to his feet. "Is she you're girl?" He asked as he came to a stop just behind Ron's shoulder.

"Obviously not."

"Do you want her to be?"

Ron shook his head firmly. "No."

"But you did want her to be, didn't you?"

Ron's jaw stiffened painfully. "I don't see why you're asking me these pointless questions None of it matters anymore. That was a long time ago."

"Is that the reason you don't want me chatting her up?"

"No." Ron turned angrily to face him. "It's not. I don't want you chatting her up because she has a high opinion of herself. So high that she deems herself nary untouchable. You pursue this infatuation you have with her and she will cut you quick. Oh, it's all right for Miss Hermione Granger, the brilliant and intelligent to have her fun, flirting and toying with the affections of anyone she wishes, but the moment you…"

"Yes?" Parker prompted when Ron stopped suddenly. "The moment you…what?"

"Nothing." Ron shook his head. "Just please trust me on this and steer clear of her." Ron raised the mug once again to his lips as he turned away and looked back out into the dense darkness. His back tensed abruptly and his head lifted as he stretched his neck. "What did I tell you?" He shouted excitedly, letting his mug drop to the ground, splashing his shoes with the dark liquid as he pulled out his wand. "Four days." Parker stepped forward and followed his line of vision to where a faint orange glow lit up a small patch on a distant hill. "I'll expect my winnings when we get back to England."

Parker shook his head with disbelief. "How is it that you're right every time?"

Ron laughed heartily, overjoyed with the prospect of the hunt and the subsequent return home to his daughter as Parker turned to alert the rest of the group. "I'm just lucky I guess."

* * *

He could feel consciousness escaping him as he drifted into sleep but couldn't seem to stop himself. His head dropped to his chest and in an instant it snapped up as he forced himself awake. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Ron picked up his report and reread what he had written. The words began to blur together and with a growl of frustration he tossed the report aside. Enough was enough. He was going to go home and sleep until it was late enough to head to Harry's and Ginny's without fearing he would be at the receiving end of one of Ginny's Bat-Boogie Hexs for waking her too early.

A short time later he found himself standing in the front hall of his home. He looked around the darkened house and frowned. It was strange to think how the absences of one small child could leave his home felling so empty especially considering that a short time ago empty was the way he liked it.

Using his long fingers to message his face, Ron began to climb the stairs, greedy for a long, hot, relaxing soak in the shower followed by a few hours of undisturbed sleep. After that he would go and retrieve his daughter and spend the rest of the day making up to her for the four days he had been gone.

When the owl arrived he was fast asleep and had been for several hours. It flew in through his open bedroom window and perched on the bedpost closest to his head. The bird looked down at him with his bright amber eyes for several minutes before letting out a loud squawk, flapping his wings, and digging his talons into the wood. When Ron didn't respond, the bird left its perch and landed on his shoulder. He lowered his beak to just above Ron's ear and let out another loud screech as he dug his talons into the flesh of Ron's back.

Yelling furiously Ron came awake with a jolt, frightening the bird into flight as he swore and rubbed at his shoulder where spots of blood were starting to form. "Bloody hell, you stupid bird! What'd you do that for?"

The bird landed once again on the bedpost and stuck out its leg. Glaring at the bird Ron untied the note and dropped it on his bedside table. "There's some water and some bird treats down in the kitchen, not that you deserve any you stupid git, but feel free to help yourself."

When Ron made to lie down again the bird screeched and ruffled his wings with indignation. "Fine." He threw the covers off and rolled onto his side. Taking up the scroll, he unfurled it and blinked the sleep from his eyes, clearing his vision and allowing him to read what he recognized instantly as his mother's hand.

_Ronnie,_

_I was so glad to see you made it home safely this morning. Hopefully I've allowed you a few hours to catch up on your sleep__ but now it's time for__ you to get up and make your way__ to__ the Burrow straight away. Harry __informed me__ you wished to have the naming ceremony today__ so we've worked very hard to make that possible__. Everything is __taken care of.__T__he guests are set to arrive any __moment__, the baby's dressed, the food is ready__, we even found someone to preside over the ceremony__. All we__ need__ now__ is for you to get over here as soon as possible._

_Dress nice, Mum_

Mouth hanging open slightly with surprise, Ron stared at the missive for a few moments. He had completely forgotten about the naming ceremony in the chaos that had ensued over the past few days, but Harry apparently hadn't and had taken over the preparation himself.

Rising to his feet, Ron tossed aside the missive and hurried toward his clothes cabinet, swearing as he stumbled over a shoe he had left in the middle of the floor. Opening the doors, Ron rifled through until he found a clean white shirt, a pair of navy trousers, and his favorite pair of dress robes. Ginny had helped him pick them out two years ago to wear to the banquet celebrating his promotion to Captain. They were simple, clean cut, with strong lines that emphasized his shoulders. They were a dark shade of navy which Ginny told him brought out the blue in his eyes and highlighted the red of his hair.

Running his hands through his fiery mane while he rushed down the stairs, Ron checked one last time to make sure he had everything he needed before turning on the spot and disappearing. When he rematerialized he was standing in the back garden of the Burrow surrounded my family and friends.

"You're here. Mum, Ron's here!" Ginny appeared almost instantly at his side holding his young niece in her arms. "Took you long enough." She leaned up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Mum's been going spare. She expected you here an hour ago."

"I came as soon as that blasted bird woke me up. The bloody thing dug his claws in me."

"Sorry." She smiled uneasily. "That was my doing. I told Flynn to make sure you read the message straight away, no matter what it took. He didn't make you bleed, did he?"

"As a matter of fact he did."

"Ronald." The back door flung open and Molly rushed down the few steps to her son. "Where have you been? You arrived home hours ago, and don't you try and deny it, I saw it on the clock."

"I'm sorry Mum, I only just got your letter."

"Hmmm, you're not hurt are you?"

"No Mum." He assured her. "We got him before he had a chance to cast any spells. It just took some time tracking him down. Mum," Ron placed a hand on her arm. "Where is she? I'm just aching to see her."

Molly smiled tenderly as she placed both her hands on the sides of his face and drew him down so that she could press a kiss to each of his cheeks before holding him at eye level. "Look how much my little boy has grown up." She brushed his hair back tenderly. "She's lying down in your room. She didn't sleep very well last night."

"I hope she didn't put you out." Ron said to Ginny when his mother finally released him.

"No." Ginny smiled knowingly, "She didn't put Harry or me out at all."

"I'm glad to hear it. Well, if you two will excuse me, there's a little girl upstairs who I'm sure misses her daddy."

Ron hurried away leaving his mother and sister watching his retreating back. "It's strange how much he's changed in such short a time." Molly said. "When I think of how terrified he was of children just a few months ago. You should have seen the look on his face that first day he had her and he came flying out of the fireplace holding her out like she was going to bite him. If I wasn't so scared he was going to drop her I would have laughed at the absolute terror on his face. Now look at him."

"It looks like he turned out alright."

Molly sighed with relief. "Thank Merlin."

Up on the top floor of the house, Ron was standing outside his old door and smiling at the worn name plate still bearing his name. Slowly he eased open the door and stepped inside. In the middle of his bed, which had been altered to sprout guard rails so the small child would not roll off, slept the black haired baby on her back, her face turned toward the door.

Ron moved to the side of the bed, removed the rail, and knelt on the floor near to her head. He placed a hand on her stomach and gently rubbed in a circle, rousing her out of her sleep. Her little mouth spread wide in a yawn before her eyes opened and lit up at the sight of him. "Hello sweetheart." He leaned forward and kissed her round cheek. "I missed you." He said as he scooped her up and hugged her close, pressing kisses to every bit of her face he could reach. "Have you grown taller?" He asked as he rose to his feet, lifting her high so that she was at eye level. "You're taking after your daddy more and more every day, aren't you? Yes you are." He kissed her one last time before setting her comfortably on his hip. "Did you like staying with your Aunty Ginny and your Uncle Harry?" He asked as he left the room and began his journey down the stairs. "I'll bet you did. And this is a very fetching dress by the way." He tugged on the white frilly hem of the garment. "A gift from your Aunt Ginny no doubt. I know I never would have picked it. But it looks nice. I'm sure it's your aunt's subtle way of telling me that we need a woman's touch in our lives." Ron ticked his tongue a few times as he stared at the dress. "If your Aunty Ginny ever asks you, you tell her that you're the only girl I need in my life. Okay?" He ran his fingers through the gentle curls in her soft hair. "We take care of each other, don't we sweetheart? And we don't need or want anyone else, do we? No." He pressed another kiss to her cheek. "Things are perfect just the way they are."

Molly met the pair at the bottom of the stairs and quickly ushered them toward the back door. "Hurry now." She said, shooing them forward. "Minister Shakelbolt has agreed to perform the ceremony and we mustn't keep him waiting any longer then we already have."

"Wait a tick." Ron turned suddenly about, causing Molly to bump into him in her haste. "Kingsley agreed to do the rite?"

"He insisted." Molly said proudly, beaming up at her son. "The moment he received his invitation he flooed me and Harry and told us as much."

"But how did you know what all was needed. I never told anyone the details."

"Well that's rather simple. I had Harry go to your house and find the information amongst your files. I knew it had to be there so…I hope you don't mind."

"What? That you had Harry go through my things or that he actually went through them?"

"Ronald really, if it will make you feel better I'm sorry that we invaded your privacy. I just so wanted this day to be perfect for you and the baby. It's a very important day. And to be perfectly honest, I'm tired of calling that sweet little girl "the baby" all the time. I want to know what my grandbaby's name is. I think it's admirable that you want to honor some of her family's traditions, but honestly, enough is enough."

"You're right." He agreed.

"I am?" Molly looked surprise at his ready compliance.

"You are. It's about time I name my little girl. And thank you, for putting this all together. You did a wonderful job."

"Well," she colored slightly. "I felt that I owed you."

"For what?" his eyes scrunched with puzzlement.

"For being so harsh with you the day you first brought this little angle into our lives. I should have been more understanding."

"Mum, it's alright." He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "In all honestly I should be thanking you. If you hadn't been so stern with me…she probably wouldn't be here."

"Well, if you put it that way, it was my pleasure. But that's enough of this. Your guests are waiting for you." She pushed him out the door and amongst the people gathered.

The entire Weasley family was present, including an uncomfortable looking Percy who was standing separate from the rest. He had a disapproving sneer on his face and Ron couldn't help but wonder what had caused it. Along with his family there were some of his former class mates, including Neville, Seamus and Dean, as well as many of the members of the Alpha Squad. Ron scanned the crowd looking for Parker and spotted him standing near the perimeter of the garden with a visibly uneasy Hermione at his sides as well as an olive skinned girl he had never seen before. Ron felt a swell of annoyance at the sight of the little group. He didn't know if he had Parker or Ginny to thank for Hermione's presences, but wasn't surprised in the least that she was latched on to Parker's side.

Hearing his name called, Ron turned away from the small group and found Kingsley Shakelbolt standing at his side. "Hello Mr Weasley."

"Please Minister," he held out his free hand, "Call me Ron."

"Only if you agree to call me Kingsley."

Ron chuckled uneasily "I don't think my mother would approve."

Kingsley threw back his head and laughed. "Ron, don't let this get out, but your mother is one of the most formidable people I have ever met. Sometimes, she even scares me. The last thing I want is Molly's disapproval." The Minister clapped Ron on the shoulder. "So if you don't tell her, I won't. But I must admit, I was a little surprised when my invitation arrived. Of course I've heard the rumors that have been circulating in the Ministry about your supposed fatherhood, but I chose to dismiss them. They all seemed highly unlikely, knowing you as I do. I must say, she doesn't look anything like you."

"Well she wouldn't, would she? Actually, I'm surprised you don't know this already. We must have done a better job than we thought. The Auror department was trying to keep this quiet, but she's actually the orphaned child of known Death Eaters. I'm in the process of adopting her."

Kingsley's eyes had grown suddenly wide. "Really? I had no idea. Why wasn't I made aware of this?"

"Like I said, Greene wanted to keep this quiet to protect the Ministry's image."

"And perhaps the reputation of the Alpha Squad?" He said knowingly. "I'm assuming your team had a part in her parents' deaths."

"Yes, sir." Ron acknowledged. "I'm afraid we did."

"And you're adopting her now?"

"I'm trying."

"That's very admirable."

"Thank you, sir."

"And this naming ceremony? How does it fit in? Harry filled me in on what my role is, but I was wondering, is this a naming or a renaming ceremony?"

"Naming. Her parents died before they could name her."

"I see." Kingsley nodded. "You do understand how important this is, don't you?"

"Yes sir. I believe I do."

"Alright then, shall we get to it?"

"Please." Ron nodded.

"Come this way."

Kingsley led the way to the other side of the garden where a sort of dais had been erected. He climbed the two steps to the top and turned to face the gathering. He lifted his hand and the crowd fell silent. "Hello everyone. Thank you so much for coming. In the interest of time and the wonderful food Molly has prepared for us, I say we get started. Ron, if you please." He motioned Ron to come stand next to him. "May I?" He held his hands out and Ron reluctantly passed over his daughter. "Hello little one." Kingsley chuckled as the small baby reached for the gold hoop strung through his ear. He unwrapped her fingers from around the loop and shifted her so that she couldn't reach for it again.

"Okay everybody. This is going to be quite a simple ceremony. First I'm going to ask Ron what name he has chosen, keeping in mind that this child will bear this name legally and truthfully for the rest of her life. Ron?"

Ron stepped forward, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. "I have put a great deal of time and consideration into the choosing of her name. I wanted to make certain that it suited her in every way possible and I feel that I have finally found the perfect name."

"And what name have you chosen?"

"I have chosen to name her Blake Kinley Weasley."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes." Ron nodded. "I am."

"Very well. You know what to do." He handed the baby back to Ron.

"Little girl," Ron said in his clearest, no nonsense voice. "I, Ronald Billius Weasley, your father, name you Blake Kinley Weasley." Ron's finger tips suddenly tingled where they held her.

"And who have you chosen to be your daughter's godparents."

"I have chosen Harry and Ginny Potter."

Kingsley chuckled again. "Not surprising. Not surprising at all. Harry and Ginny, would you please join us?"

Together Harry and Ginny worked their way through the crowd to the dais and came to stand next to Ron.

"Harry Potter. Ginny Potter. Do you accept Ronald Weasley's decision to be the godparents of his daughter, Blake Kinley, as well as accept all the rights, responsibilities and privileges that accompany the position?"

"I do." Said Harry.

"Yes, of course." Ginny nodded.

"Then pledge yourself to her now."

Harry placed his hand on the child's back and recited the words he and Ginny had worked together to memorize. "I Harry Potter, accept Ronald Weasley's request that I act as Blake Kinley," he glanced at Ron to make sure he had heard correct, "Weasley's godfather. I swear to do my best to protect her, watch over her, and care for her. And if the circumstance should ever arise, I will welcome her into my home as my own. Blake Kinley Weasley, welcome to the family."

When Harry removed his hand Ginny placed hers where it had been. "I Ginevra Weasley Potter, accept Ronald Weasley's request that I act as Blake Kinley Weasley's godmother. I swear to do my upmost to protect her, care for her and love her to the fullest of my capacity. And if ever the worst should happen, I will welcome her into my home as my own. I would like to welcome you, Blake Kinley Weasley, into my family." Ginny leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the child's cheek.

"Well done." Kingsley's voice boomed as he stepped forward and took the little girl out of Ron's arms. "Friends and family, I would like to formally introduce you to Blake Kinley Weasley."

The gathered crowd erupted into an explosion of sound as cheers rent the air. Ron took back his daughter and turned to face the cheering crowd. He instantly spotted his mother who was dabbing at her eyes while his father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Bill was standing near the dais with his small family, beaming up at Ron with pride. He worked his way through the crowd seeking out each member of his immediate family and much to his own annoyance, Hermione Granger. She was clapping as well, but the look on her face stated clearly that she wished to be anywhere else but where she was at the moment. As he watched, Hermione leaned over and said something to the olive skinned girl next to her. The other girls eyes grew large, and she looked at Hermione with surprise. For a moment Ron couldn't help but wonder what had been exchanged between the two girls but quickly dismissed it as Katie Bell, Alicia Spinet and some of the other members of the Hogwarts Quidditch team moved forward to speak with him.

"Are you ready to leave?" Hermione asked Beila, ignoring the look of disappointment that instantly washed over Parker's face.

"No. We can not leave." Beila said with a slight scowl. "I have heard you praise Molly Weasley's food for years. I will not leave until I taste it."

"But…"

"No." Bea cut in. She pointed one slender finger at Hermione as she slipped into her native Spanish. "_I am going to try some of that food and you are going to be an adult and speak with him if the opportunity arises._"

"But…"

Again Bea raised her finger threateningly. "I will be back."

Parker stepped up behind Hermione as Beila moved away. "What was that about?"

Hermione looked at him over her left shoulder. "Nothing. Just a little disagreement we've been having."

"I hope it's nothing serious."

"No." Hermione turned fully to face him. "It's nothing. Really. I promise. Now, tell me, what is Taymyr like?"

"How did you know we were in Taymyr?"

"It's been my job to finish all the necessary paper work to get Amadeus legally back in the country."

"I see." Parker nodded. "Well, it was cold. Absolutely glacial. It was so bloody frigid I thought my bits would freeze off." Parker lowered his head, smiled seductively and lifted his eyes to hers. "The only thing that kept me warm at night was thoughts of you."

"Parker," Hermione's face darkened to a deep scarlet. "That was entirely too wicked of you. What if someone had heard?"

"Let them hear. I don't mind."

"But I do. These are my friends and family."

"You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough."

"You worry enough for the both of us."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That sounds like something Ron would say."

"Ron's a smart man."

Hermione's lips twitched irritably to the side. "That's an interesting name he picked. Blake Kinley. Did you know?"

"Nope. I had no idea. I was completely in the dark. Ron has been surprisingly tightlipped on the subject, no matter how I coaxed. But I think it's rather enchanting. Blake Kinley Weasley. It has a pleasant ring to it, don't you think?"

"I'll withhold my verdict a little longer."

"Well," Parker shrugged. "It scarcely matters anymore. Little Blake is well and thoroughly named now. No going back."

"I suppose you're right." Hermione watched Ron move through the crowd talking to his friends and family, laughing and bouncing the baby lightly on his hip. She hated to admit it, but he looked good. The robes he was wearing were impeccably chosen and were just the right shade of blue and were tailored perfectly. He would be at home in the most grand of ballrooms, and yet looked completely natural with the black haired child resting on his hip.

"Parker." She forced herself to turn away from Ron. "There's something I've been wanting to know, but you see I didn't feel comfortable asking the Weasleys and I thought perhaps you would know the answer and so…"

"Hermione," Fred swooped out of nowhere and wrapped his arm around her neck in a painful hug. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yes," she wrestled his arm off over her head. "I'm sure it is."

"It's wonderful of you to come around. I was afraid the sight of Ron might have sent you scurrying."

"Ginny threatened to hex me if it did."

"Bravo for her. And bravo to you for bringing such an attractive friend with you. You'll introduce a bloke wont you?"

"No." Hermione said evenly. "That's not going to happen." She pointed her finger in his face. "You stay away from her. I mean it."

"Hermione," Fred gasped and clutched dramatically at his chest. "If I didn't know any better I would actually believe that you don't trust me or something."

"That's funny, because I don't."

"And why might I ask?"

"Because Fred, you have a horrible reputation. I swear you get some perverse joy out of making women fall for you and as soon as they have you tire of them, move on, and leave them tending a broken heart. So no. I won't introduce you. And in fact I would prefer it if you left Beila alone."

"Beila?" Fred wiggled his brows. "That sounds exotic. Where did you say you met her?"

"Fred, I mean it. Leave her alone."

"Hermione," Fred shook his head with disappointment, "You can stop with the ruse. We both know you want me to meet her."

"And how did you come to that preposterous conclusion?"

"It's all a matter of psychology. You see I know that you know that by forbidding me to become acquainted with her I'll only want her more and so you used that as a ploy to encourage me to go and meet her."

"What! That is not what I meant to do! Fred stop! Come back here!" She tried to set after him when he turned and began to push his way through the crowd toward Beila only to have Parker catch her wrist and gently haul her back.

"Leave him go. Beila's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

"No," Hermione tried to tug her wrist free. "I have to stop him." She managed to wrench her hand out of his grasp. "You don't understand. Bea has been my savior for the past five years. I will not let Fred hurt her if I can prevent it."

"Hermione," Parker placed a hand on both of her shoulders and waited until she looked at him. "You're very close with this Bea?"

"I am."

"Then I am sure she can handle herself. You surround yourself with strong people. She'll be fine."

"But…"

"Just enjoy you're evening. Have some food and relax. This is a party after all."

"Yes, but…"

Parker sighed with exasperation. "Come on." He took her hand and towed her to where a table with refreshments had been set up. "What's your poison?"

"But I don't want…"

"I'm not giving you an option. One drink to calm you're nerves and help you relax. That's all."

"But I don't drink."

"Well, now's as good a time as any to start. Now, what will it be?"

"Are you trying to get me pissed so I'll agree to go out with you?"

Parker's eyes widened with intrigue. "I hadn't even thought of that. But no." He placed his right hand over his heart. "I give you my word that I will not broach the subject of dinner this evening. Well?"

Hermione caught Ron's eyes a moment over Parker's shoulder before they narrowed and he turned away. Hermione stiffened her jaw and forced her chin up a notch. She glanced down at the array of alcoholic beverages, both wizard and muggle, that had been provided, "I don't drink very often and so I have no idea what's good and what's not."

"Would you like me to fix you something?"

"All right." She nodded curtly. "But don't make it very strong. We have to work tomorrow."

"Sure thing."

Parker returned to her side several minutes later handing her a glass of bright blue liquid. "What is it?"

"Something I whipped together just now. Tell me what you think."

Hermione sipped tentatively and her eyes widened with surprise. "That's really good."

"I'm glad you like it."

"I do." She licked her lips as if to ensure that she tasted every last drop. "You'll have to show me how to make it sometime."

"I'll do that." He smiled, taking a sip from his own drink. "Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Shall we?" He nodded his head toward the table laden with food. He placed his hand on the small of her back and began leading her through the crowd, oblivious to the blue eyes that narrowed and darkened at the sight. "You know," he said leaning forward and whispering in her ear, "Someday I am going to get you to agree to sit down and have a real meal with me."

"That promise didn't last very long."

"Sorry." He shrugged guiltily. "I forgot."

Hermione came to a sudden stop when she caught sight of Beila who was sitting with Fred on one of the benches she had helped Molly place in the garden. As she watched her beautiful friend playfully tossed her head and ran her fingers through her dark, curled tresses while Fred leaned forward to whisper something that must have been funny in her ear for it caused Beila to throw back her head and laugh. The tinkle of it rang through the garden and reached Hermione where she stood. She watched as Bea laid her hand gently on Fred's knee. There was a sudden tightening in her chest that Hermione did not recognize. Turning away she finished off her drink.

"You know what?" She held out the empty glass. "I think now would be an excellent time to teach me how to make that drink."

He took the cup uncertainly. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." Her smile was overly bright. "I'm just fine. A smidge thirsty is all."

"Hermione, I don't think…"

"Parker, _I'm a big girl_." She said, throwing his own words back at him. "I know what I'm doing."

"Alright." He said, his voice high with uncertainty. "I hope you don't regret this in the morning."

"The only thing I regret is coming here today."

Parker stepped up to the liquor table with Hermione at his side. "And you think this is going to help?"

"It can't hurt."

"Well if you're sure."

Hermione watched as Parker picked up one bottle and then another, explaining what each ingredient was and how much he added. She watched his large hands as they wrapped around the necks of different bottles and wondered at how powerful and strong they looked while seeming so gentle at the same time. "Parker," she said closing her eyes, almost dreading the question before she asked it, "What if I was the one to broach the subject of you taking me to dinner?"

He stopped with the lip of the last bottle arrested on the glass. "Are you accepting?"

She paused a moment to weigh the answer one last time. "Yes." She nodded. "I think I am."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. I reckon I'm tired of being alone and you're sweet, kind, charming, rather good looking."

"Stop it. You're embarrassing me."

"And most importantly, you want me."Parker sobered instantly. Hermione struggled to keep the smile on her lips. "I'm willing to give it a try if you are."

Parker leaned in as he handed her her drink and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. He brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes as he pulled back and sighed with relief at the sight of a natural smile on her lips. "I'm willing. Dinner? "

"Yes." She nodded.

"When?"

"Friday?"

"No good. Unfortunately I have to head home to Scotland on Friday. What about Thursday?"

"Alright." She nodded. "Thursday."

"Seven?"

"Six thirty."

"Six thirty." He agreed. "Why don't you find us somewhere to sit and I'll get us something to eat. What would you like?"

"Anything. I love Mrs Weasley's cooking."

Hermione watched Parker's back as he maneuvered his way through the crowd to the table laden with food and the smile she had been wearing disappeared from her face. Now that he wasn't standing right next to her, looking down at her with that charming smile of his, she didn't feel so sure about her decision to join him for dinner.

"Hermione dear." The young girl turned at the sound of Molly Weasley's voice. "I'm so glad that you could come."The older woman drew the younger into a tight embrace about the shoulders, hugging her close before pulling back and holding Hermione's face gently between her hands. "I'm so sorry I didn't have a chance to talk to you earlier, but there wasn't time with trying to get this all in place."

"It's alright. I understand."

"Thank you for your help. You're such a sweet girl. I almost felt guilty for setting you to work straight away."

"No, no. It was my pleasure, really."

"Just the same. I've seen too little of you, dear, I wouldn't have felt so guilty if you stopped by more often. What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Keeping busy at work and trying to find a place to live."

"You promised you would come and see me."

"I did and I will. It's just been terribly hectic at work as of late."

"Hmm." Molly's lips pursed slightly. "I understand the importance of work, dear, believe me I do. But one needs to make time for one's self as well."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"See that you do. Ginny tells me that you have a friend staying with you at the moment. Beila? From Spain?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "That's right. She arrived Thursday evening actually. Took me completely by surprise. I had no idea she was planning on coming."

"And when does she leave?"

"She takes a portkey home tomorrow."

"Then where is she? I would like to meet her."

"Actually,' Hermione frowned, "She's currently being seduced by your son." She pointed a finger over Molly's shoulder to where Fred and Beila were still tucked away together, their heads tilted close to one another."

Molly turned to glance over her shoulder. "You don't sound very thrilled." She observed.

"Should I be? No offence Mrs Weasley, but Fred isn't exactly known for his splendid record with women. I don't want him hurting her."

"You say she goes back to Spain tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Then why worry about a little harmless flirtation today? As soon as she is out of Fred's sight he'll forget about her and that will be the end of it."

"Surely you can't approve of the way he treats women." Hermione said with disbelief.

"Of course I don't. But I've tried reasoning with him, yelling at him, nagging him and making him feel guilty. Nothing seems to work and I don't know what else to do. All I can do now is hope that someday he meets the right girl and he grows out of this childish behavior."

"Well, I would still rather he not hurt my friends in the mean time."

"Did you tell him that?"

"I tried, but he didn't exactly listen to me. Obviously."

"Well, why don't you come to the house on Thursday and talk to him at family dinner."

"No," Hermione took a surprised step back. "I…I…I couldn't do that."

"Of course you can. Arthur and I were just talking the other day about how much we miss having you around and I know some of the others feel the same."

"Mrs Weasley, I…I can't."

"Hermione," Molly took her hand and drew her closer. "I know you think that I am unaware of the tension between you and Ronald. I'm not. And I would be lying if I didn't admit that when you were younger I had hoped that one day you and Ronald would marry and you would legally be my daughter. Just because things didn't work out the way that I had hopped doesn't mean that I don't still think of you as a daughter and it hurts me when you don't come around and see me like my other children do. Now you are still a part of my family and you are going to come to the Burrow on Thursday night and have dinner with the family. That is not a request."

"But I can't." Hermione said urgently, "I have plans on Thursday night."

Molly crossed her arms over her ample bosom. "And what, pray tell, are they?"

"I'm having dinner with Parker Gale."

"I thought that was him I saw you talking with. That's fine. He can join us as well."

"What? No. I mean, what?"

"Bring him with. He doesn't come around nearly enough anymore either. Parker's family lives up in the highlands of Scotland and while he was in training to be an Auror with Ron he couldn't make the trip home to see them very often so he would come and have dinner with us. He's a very nice boy. I approve."

"Er…thank you." She said uneasily.

"So there will be no more discussion. You and Parker will join us on Thursday at seven o'clock, and that is that. Now, I must be off. There are other guests that I must attend to. Oh, and Hermione, that was a very lovely dress you picked out for Blake. It was very sweet of you." And without stopping to hear her response Molly bustled away, greeting guest as she went.

"Here," Parker returned to Hermione's side and handed her a plate piled with a selection of different foods. "What are you looking at?"

"Are you afraid of Molly Weasley?"

"Only when she gets angry. I've seen her tear into her children and I don't wish to have the same done to me."

"That's me as well." She sighed heavily. "I guess that means we'll be having dinner here on Thursday."

"Pardon?"

"Mrs Weasley just cornered me and insisted that we join the family for dinner."

"Here?"

"Where else?"

Parker stared down at her for several minutes, his expression blank before a sort of gleam crept into his eyes. "Are you up for it?"

Hermione captured the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and worried it slightly. "I don't think we really have a choice."


	13. In Bad Taste

Chapter Thirteen: In Bad Taste

For probably the first time in his life, Ron Weasley found himself with nothing to do because there was nothing to do, and it was driving him mad. He had already completed all his previously unfinished paperwork, reorganized his desk, something that needed to be done almost since he had moved into his office, testified at Malacar Amadeus's trial, escorted him to Azkaban, and convinced Larry down in maintenance to charm his window to resemble his back garden. Ron growled with annoyance as he tried to finish the current letter he was writing and found his mind once again begin to wander to places he didn't want it to go. As had been happening all week, every time he stopped working long enough to have time to think, his mind instantly went to the last person he wanted to think about.

He couldn't help himself. Images of her and how she had looked at Blake's naming ceremony kept running obnoxiously through his head. She had looked absolutely gorgeous. The five years she had spent under Spain's warm sun had done wonders to her image. The sun had lightened her hair slightly, turning it from the mousy brown he remembered to the honeyed mass it now was, and had darkened her skin to an eye catching, kissed, glow. The subsequent five years had also done their job altering her body from that of an unshapely seventeen year old, to a very attractive twenty-three year old. He hadn't really given himself a chance to notice the change in Hermione's appearance until this past Sunday and wished desperately that he still hadn't. Damn Parker for brining her to Blake's party and damn her for accepting his offer. If she hadn't been there he wouldn't have spent half the evening keeping himself in check and not charging across the expanse of grass to lay into Parker. Just when he was starting to like him again he had to go and ruin it. And now because of that day he couldn't get the damn woman out of his head and it was driving him mad.

Ron leaned forward, his arms braced against his knees, and pressed his thumbs gently into his eyes. For a second he considered pushing his thumbs in a little harder and gouging them out, maybe then he would stop seeing the way one strand of hair, that one strand she could never seemed able to keep in place, fall in front of her eyes and the way Parker instantly reached out and tucked it behind her ear, as if he had every right to, his fingers lingering momentarily on her cheek. Ron took a calming breath as even the memory caused his blood pressure to rise.

"Bloody hell." He spun his chair around to look at the scene in his picture window. Would the torment never end? After five years of trying to move on and forget about her, one day of watching her laugh and flirt with one of his best friends brought it all rushing back, over whelming him and leaving him annoyed and scared. Scared with the realization that she still had power over him. He couldn't understand how she still had the ability to make him feel like a jealous, preadolescent child with just one look. It was almost like no time had passed at all.

When there was a knock at his office door, Ron turned his head to look over his shoulder. Fern McDougal eased open the door and stuck her head through the gap. "I'm sorry to disturb you Mr Weasley,"

"It's alright, Fern." Ron sent his chair spinning forward. "Come in, sit down." He nodded to the empty chair across from him and waited for her to take a seat. Once she was settled he folded his hands together and placed them on the desk top. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could possibly have the rest of the day off. Only, Jackson just owled me to say he has something special planned for tomorrow night and I need a new dress, but I don't trust anyone else's opinion except my friend Hattie and…"

"Do you think tomorrow is going to be the night?"

Fern blushed prettily as she lowered her eyes, her lips trying to suppress her happy smile. She nodded twice. "I think so."

"Then go. At least someone should be happy." He murmured the last. "You can leave early tomorrow as well. Give yourself plenty of time to get ready."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up with delight.

"Really. Go on now." He nodded his head toward the door.

"Thank you Mr Weasley." Fern leapt out of her chair, leaned across the desk and planted a loud kiss on his cheek. "Thank you so much."

"Jackson is a lucky man."

"Thank you." She cried once again before she turned and hurried toward the door. "Thank you so much. Oh," she stopped with her hand on the handle. "Don't forget your appointment with Ms Edgecombe at four."

"No fears of that. I'll see you in the morning then?"

"Bright and early." She promised.

Ron watched Fern scurry from the room a bittersweet smile on his lips. He almost couldn't remember what it felt like to be young and in love. All he remembered now was the pain that followed when it ended.

Glancing at his watch, Ron saw that he had a little more than half hour before his meeting with Winnie and until that time he was determined to sit right there, arms crossed behind his head, and not think about Hermione Granger at all.

Leaning back in his chair he closed his eyes and thought of the next task on his list, painting Blake's room. He hadn't asked Ginny for her help yet, but he was certain he could convince her to come and help this weekend by offering her a free meal, or better yet, a night without the children. Yes, that was the ticket. He would offer to watch Si and Bryony for an evening so that she and Harry could have a night to themselves, just the two of them. The way Harry had been talking he and Ginny hadn't had a night to themselves probably since Si was born. They deserved it. Of course, if he were a better man he would offer to take the children without anything in return, and he would some other time, but he really wanted Blake's room to be perfect and Ginny was the only one to do it.

He spent the next ten minutes trying to imagine different treatments that they might use on the walls of the nursery. When he pulled his left arm from behind his head and glanced at his watch he found that he had twenty minutes until he was expected to be in Winnie's office. He knew it didn't take that long to traverse the few floors that separated their headquarters, but he was going mad with nothing to do. He retrieved his robes from the hooks mounted on the wall near the entrance and slid them on as he turned the handle and opened the door.

Stepping out of his office and into the maze of partitions that made up the Auror Department was how Ron imagined stepping into a busy hive must feel and sound like. It was a never ending flow of noise and activity that congested the narrow walkways. What with the interdepartmental memos that zoomed about at eye level, heads appearing over the tops of the short walls to talk with neighbors, and the thud of bodies bumping into walls and each other as they tried to avoid hitting anyone in the narrow alleys.

Fastening the clasps on his robes, Ron set out toward the lifts, calling greetings to those he knew as he passed.

"Captain," Gwen's head popped into the hall seconds after he passed her workspace. "Wait a tick. I have something for you." Her head disappeared back inside her cubicle and Ron made his way back to her compartment, stopping just inside as he watched her, an amused smile on his face, as she searched the many piles of files and discarded parchment on her desk. She picked up several stacks, fanned through them, and set them down hastily, causing them to tip and slide into each other making the mess worse. "Where did I put those?" She murmured as she pulled open a desk drawer and began riffling through its contents. "Oh yes," she sat up, popping her fingers, and reached around Ron to her coat which she had hung on the corner of one of the partitions. "I put them in my coat pocket so I wouldn't ruin them."

Ron arched a brow.

"Alright," she rolled her eyes, "I put them in there so I wouldn't lose them as well." She slipped her hand inside one of the pockets and withdrew a stack a glossy wizarding photos. "I just had these developed yesterday or I would have gotten it to you sooner." She began flipping through the stack until she found the photo she was looking for. "I thought you might like to have this." She held it out to him.

Ron accepted the photo and tilted it so that he could see the image. It was of him and Blake, sitting underneath one of the trees in his mother's garden. He recalled that Blake had been growing fussy from being passed around to so many people and he had taken her to the solace of the tree to take a breather, something they had both needed. Together they say facing the woods; his long legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles, Blake sitting on his lap, her back to his chest. He had one arm wrapped protectively around her middle, holding her steady while the other hand he held up, one finger extended so that she could wrap her small fingers around it.

"I didn't know you took this." He said, his eyes never leaving the image.

"I prefer it that way. I hate posed shots. They have no real life to them. But candid…sometimes you manage to capture the most wonderful images. Like that one."

"This is…beautiful." He lifted his eyes to hers. "Thank you. So," he leaned against the partition. "What else did you manage to capture?"

"Actually," she chuckled, "I have the most spectacular photo of your mother."

"Gwen love," Felix's head appeared suddenly over the top of their adjoining wall. "Have you finished with the Hallburg file yet? I need to look over it tonight and I wanted to make sure I gave you enough time to find it before the end of the day."

Gwen scowled at Felix's knowing smirk. "Ha, very funny." She set the pictures aside. "Just give me a moment. I was just looking at it." She began fumbling through her files and Ron shook his head with amusement as he backed out the door.

"I have a meeting I need to get to. Thanks again for the picture, Gwen."

"You're welcome." She said offhandedly, already consumed by her search for the missing file.

"Maybe if you cleaned your desk every once and again." He heard Felix say as he walked away, the friendly teasing reminding him of his relationships with his own siblings and causing his lips to tremble with mirth. He and the Alpha Squad were like one big, dysfunctional family. He wouldn't trade them and their sometimes chaotic ways for anything.

Once inside the lifts Ron stared at the picture more closely. It was truly captivating. If one wasn't paying close attention they could almost mistake it for one of those Muggle photos he had seen Harry and Hermione with. He and Blake were both sitting so still, it was as if they were frozen. It was only when viewed closer you could see the way the wind picked at the strands of their hair and playfully tossed them, or the way his thumb lovingly ran in a circle over the back of her hand holding his finger.

The longer he looked at the picture, the more he loved it. It was essentially them. It was these moments, theses moments when Blake was calm enough to be held by him and not wiggle, when all he wanted was to hold her and forget about the troubles that had plagued him all day, that he cherished most. She could calm him in a way no one else ever could. He knew Blake was his savior in more ways than one.

The lift came to a stop on the floor of Winnie's offices and Ron stepped off, tucking the photo carefully into his pocket. He found Winnie's office door, knocked, and entered when she called him.

"Ron," she came around the side of her desk, her hand extended towards him. "You're right on time." She shook his hand eagerly. "Please," she ushered him toward one of two empty seats. "We have quite a bit to discus before the Minister arrives."

"The Minister?" Ron stopped halfway to sitting. "Of Magic?"

"Of course the Minister of Magic. What other Minister would I be speaking of? How many do you know?"

"Just the one."

"Precisely." She took her seat and slid her glasses onto the bride of her nose. "And speaking of which, why exactly didn't you tell me you were on first name bases with the Minister?"

"Er…" Ron sat back with surprise. "I reckon I didn't think it was relevant."

"Everything," she emphasized, "is relevant. Do you have any idea how much quicker this process would have been if you had informed me sooner? Having the Minister supporting you and your petition has made all the difference. I had estimated another three weeks at the earliest before we would be able to sign any papers, but because of the work the Minister has done you'll be signing them today." Her eyes narrowed slightly with puzzlement. "He was quite adamant that it be today actually, something about family dinner and wanting the family complete. He didn't really stop and explain. In any case, as soon as he arrives we'll get these papers signed and that will be that."

Ron stared blankly at her a moment as he tried to process everything she had said in her little tirade. "And that will be _what_, exactly?"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ronald. Do I have to spell everything out?"

"Apparently, because I'm not sure if I am following."

"Alright," she placed her hands daintily on the desk top, one hand over the other. "You are, of course, aware that after the way, by request of Harry Potter, the Ministry made a major push to have all orphaned children adopted or placed in the care of wizarding families, yes?"

Ron nodded. "Of course."

"Did you also know that Minister Shakelbolt took an active role in getting it all accomplished? He was aware of every single adoption case and stepped in to help anytime he was needed. He's a great man. I respect him immensely. Minister Shakelbolt came into my office straight away Monday morning to inquire as to why I hadn't informed him you were trying to adopt the Blythe… I mean Blake. Ron," she leaned forward eagerly, "he pushed everything through. He made your case _top_ _priority_. He said that with everything you and your family did and suffered in the fight against You-Know-Who, and everything you continue to do now, it was the least the Wizarding community could do for you."

"You mean to tell me…"

Winnie nodded excitedly. "All that's left is for you to sign the papers and she's legally yours."

Ron slumped back in his seat, his mind reeling with shock. Amongst the hundreds of thoughts fighting to the forefront of his brain, one became more predominant. Blake was finally going to be his. Really and truly his. After today it would be over and he could stop worrying that someone would come and try and take her away from him.

A tender smile slid across his lips as his eyes brightened with tears. "I don't know what to say. How will I ever thank you?"

"Don't thank me. I didn't really do anything. You did all my research and Minister Shakelbolt did all my work."

"I just can't believe it. Is the Minister allowed to do that? Push through his own agenda like this?"

Winnie shrugged. "Who's going to try and stop him? Besides, I for one am glad to see a Minister use his power to help someone else for a change. If he helps one more child find a happy home more quickly, then I'm all for anything he wishes to suggest."

"You're amazing." Ron said. "You really care about every child who passes through here, don't you?"

"Yes." She said simply. "Otherwise I couldn't do this job." There was a firm knock at the door. "That must be the Minister now."

"Why do we need the Minister here?" Ron followed Winnie to her feet and watched as she moved towards the door.

"He requested that he act as witness to this adoption. I didn't think you would object."

"No. Not at all. By all means."

"Excellent." Winnie pulled open the door. "Minister Sh…Paxman? What are you doing here? I'm with a client."

"I realize that." Winnie was forced to step aside as a tall man with honey colored blond hair forced his way into her office. "I understand you're planning on signing the adoption papers for the Blythe baby today."

"Yes." Her eyes narrowed uneasily as she closed the door. "How did you know that?"

"I have friends in the Minister's office. I'm afraid I can't allow you to go through with this adoption, Winnie."

"I've told you not to call me that," she said acidly, "especially when I'm with a client."

"Oh yes," Paxman turned to face Ron. "You must be," he flipped open the file he carried, "Ronald Billius Weasley. Sorry to do this to you, mate." He said, though he didn't seem a bit of it.

"I'm not your mate." Ron glared at the man until the smile vanished momentarily from his face and he took an involuntary step back. "Winnie," he looked to his friend, "What is he talking about?"

"I have no idea. Samuel Paxman, you had damn well better have a good reason for barging into _my _office like that and distressing my client."

"I thought I would come here today and save you the hassle and embarrassment of a law suit. But if you would rather I just leave…"

"What law suit?"

"The one that will be filled against you and Captain Weasley if you continue with this adoption."

"On what grounds?"

"That you had no legal right. That right lies with her guardians."

What little color Ron had in his already pale face drained away. He swallowed audibly. "What guardians?"

"The ones appointed to her by her birth parents, Timothy and Vyvica Blythe."

"There were no guardians appointed. I've been through all their legal papers. I would have seen…"

"Are you sure you didn't…_accidently_ misplace them?"

Ron's eyes roared with fury as color rushed back into his face. "What exactly are you accusing me of, sir?"

"Nothing. I can't accuse you without proof, now can I? And where am I ever going to find that? What with you being such good friends with Minister and all. Who would ever turn you in?"

Ron took a step forward only to have Winnie come between him and his prey and force him back with a hand to his chest. "Ron, let me handle this."

"He's accusing me of tampering with evidence." Ron pointed a finger at the other man.

"I know," she said forcefully, pushing his hand down. "Let me handle this."

When she was certain Ron wouldn't lose himself again and attack, she turned to face the other man. "Who are you representing?"

"Mr Malacar Amadeus."

"Malacar Amadeus!" Ron exploded. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Ron,"

"Winnie, he's a convicted Death Eater! I testified at his hearing not two days ago!"

"Another peculiar coincidence, don't you think?"

Ron lurched forward and this time Winnie used her wand to hold him back. "I told you to let me handle this."

"This is ludicrous. That monster has been committed to a life time sentence in Azkaban."

"Ron, if you don't calm down I am going to have to ask you to leave. Now sit. Take a few deep breaths."

Growling with frustration Ron moved away, tugging painfully at his hair.

"By what right does Amadeus claim he has guardianship over the child?"

"He's her godfather."

"That's a lie." Ron spun around. "Her godfather would have been named at her Naming Ceremony. Her parents never had the chance to perform one."

Paxman sighed. "Fine. He _would_ have been named godfather, if the Ministry hadn't seen fit to kill her parents before the deed could be done. As such, he claims full guardianship of the Blythe's child."

"Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?" Winnie moved slowly to her desk and sat down.

"My client has been out of the country…"

"He was running from the law."

"And so," Paxman continued as if Ron hadn't spoken, "was unaware of the death of Timothy and Vyvica and did not, thus, know the fate of their, at the time, unborn child. He immediately contacted me after learning of their untimely demise and set me with the task to learn what had happened to their child. I assure you, I came as soon as I learned what a terrible mistake you were about to make."

"Malacar Amadeus is not Blake's godfather." Ron turned and focused his mutinous eyes on Paxman. "There are no records to support his claim. I would have found them if there were."

"Just the same," a slick smile slid onto his lips. "You won't be signing any adoption papers today."

"And how, pray tell," Ron asked through painfully gritted teeth, "does your client intend to care for a small child while carrying out his sentence in Azkaban?"

"His family will be stepping in, naturally. His sister and brother-in-law, to be more specific, with help from his mother."

Ron leaned forward, placing his hands firmly on Winnie's desk. "I will die before I let that happen."

"Ron." Winnie said warningly.

"Winnie," Ron lowered his voice so only she could hear him. "The entire family is being investigated for Death Eater activities. We have information on his sister and brother-in-law that would make your head spin. You can't let this happen. You can't let them get their hands on her."

Winnie shook her head sadly. "We might not have an option."

"No!" he shouted taking a step back. "_No!_ This is _my_ daughter we're talking about. _My_ little girl."

"Actually" Paxman sneered, "You'll see she's not."

Ron turned on the other man. "If you want to live to see tomorrow you'll remain very, very quiet."

"Are you threatening me?"

Ron whipped out his wand and jabbed it at Paxman right between the eyes. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. I will not allow murdering Death Eaters to get their hands on my daughter. It won't happen."

Paxman stared down the length of Ron's wand into his murderous blue eyes. "I'm afraid you're too late to stop it."

Ron remained frozen like a statue as the terrible realization took over him. "Blake," He dropped his wand hand as he took off at a dead run, tearing open the door and sprinting down the hall, hastily shoving aside Ministry workers unfortunate enough to get in his way.

When he reached the Ministry provided child care, he threw open the door so hard that it collided with the wall giving off a resounding thwack.

"Captain Weasley!" Ruthie Kane, who ran the center, whirled about, a two year old child in her arms. "I've been trying to reach you." She stepped forward, her eyes wide with concern. "I sent Dolly after you but your assistant wasn't there and nobody seemed to know where you were. I tried to stop them," she burst into frantic tears, "but I couldn't. They had orders."

Ron stumbled backwards, his heart tightening painfully in his chest. "No," his breath came in short, shallow pants. "No." He said more firmly, shaking his head with disbelief.

Ruthie pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket and offered it to him. "They left this for you. They said something about a custody dispute…I don't understand. What did they mean? I thought little Blake was yours."

Ron shook his head as he backed out the door.

"Wait. Captain Weasley, you forgot this."

But Ron didn't hear her. He was already off running again, one thought coursing through his brain. He had to find her. He had to get her back. He _needed_ to get her back.

* * *

It felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was no other way to describe the tense felling that gripped her body and mind. She and Parker couldn't have been at the Burrow for more than twenty minutes but it felt like hours. She just didn't feel right being there, hadn't felt right about it all week. Ron hadn't even arrived yet and the anticipation caused by waiting for him to make an appearance was starting to get to her. She, like everyone else, was waiting for all hell to break loose, because of course it would. Ron couldn't stand the sight of her and had made that abundantly clear on Sunday. He would not take too kindly to her being at his family dinner.

As another minute passed Hermione began to wonder if he would show up at all. Perhaps someone had forewarned him that she would be there and so decided to forego family dinner that week.

When a hand landed suddenly on her shoulder, Hermione whirled around, a high pitched squeak escaping her lips, her hand knocking the wineglass out of Parker's hand, spilling the red liquid all down his front. "Shite!" Her eyes grew suddenly wide. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry." She set aside her own glass as Parker pulled the sodden fabric away from his chest with two fingers.

"It's alright."

"No it isn't." Hermione insisted, pushing his hands away from the large stain. "Let me fix this." She pulled out her wand and began to siphon the liquid away from the robes. "It's not coming out." Her voice grew panicky as she realized the liquid was disappearing but the color was being left behind. "Parker, it's not coming out."

"Hermione," he repeated her name twice more but was only able to gain her attention when he took both her hands in his and held them still, waiting until she looked him in the eye before speaking. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." She said anxiously. "I'm not nervous. Why would you think I'm nervous?"

"I didn't say nervous. Hermione," he released one hand to tilt her chin up. "What's going on? You've been titchy all week."

"Don't say that." She closed her eyes as she tilted her head down.

"Say what?"

"Titchy. Ron used to say that."

"I know. That's where I leaned it. Hermione, are you feeling well? Should I escort you home?"

Hermione pulled her other had free of his grasp so that she could rub at her face with both. "We can't leave." She groaned, "Mrs Weasley would never forgive us."

"If you're not feeling well I'm sure she would understand."

"I'm feeling fine." She dropped her hands from her face. "It's just that…I don't know…I don't feel right being here. Isn't this uncomfortable for you?" she asked.

"No. Should it be?"

"Yes." Hermione said almost frantically. "Yes it should. Don't you think this is odd? I mean honestly, what sane person brings a bloke on what should be a first date to a family dinner with a family that is not technically hers? You don't consider that abnormal?"

"Hermione," he retook her hands, "I could care less where we are tonight. We could be eating out of rubbish bins and I would still be happy just because I'm with you. I would go anywhere and do anything just to have that privilege."

"You're more nutters than I am." She rolled her eyes. "Out of rubbish bins?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I do." She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest. "Parker, why are you so sweet to me?"

"Because," he allowed his fingers to stroke her back comfortingly. "You deserve it."

She shook her head. "I don't deserve anything."

"You deserve everything." He insisted. "You deserve to be happy and in love with a man who loves everything about you. Who goes insane with jealousy when he sees another bloke so much as look at you twice. You deserve to be loved and cherished by a man who makes you feel complete. And I'm determined that you have that. No matter what."

Hermione let Parker hold her for a few minutes more as she grappled with what he had said. Everything sounded so wonderful, and she ached to feel that way, mostly because she believed she could never feel that again. Not that she ever really had, things being what they were between her and Ron, but just the same. Parker was a wonderful man, but she didn't know if she was ready to let him or anyone else into her heart again.

"I really am sorry about your robes." She said as she pulled away, picking at the dark spot on his new outfit.

"Don't worry, I can afford to buy new ones."

"But you shouldn't have to. Mrs Weasley is a master of household charms. Perhaps she knows a spell that will take the stain out."

"That's not necessary."

"Please," she placed a hand to her chest, "I would feel better if you would at least let her try."

"Alright. If it will make you feel better, then by all means."

Fleur shook her head and ticked her tongue as she watched Hermione and Parker walk into the house. "It iz a good zing, no, zat Ron waz not here?" she asked to the circle of Weasley's gathered in the garden waiting for dinner to start.

Fred snickered as he rolled his eyes. "You have that right. He would have blown a gasket. Too bad, it might have done him some good."

"Well I say good for her." Ashken lifted her chin defensively. "Ron's being a pratt, as far as I can tell, and she's waited too long for him as it is."

"Still," George said uneasily, "I can't believe Mum invited them to dinner. What was she thinking?"

"Perhaps she misses them." Ginny suggested reproachfully. "Perhaps she wanted everyone she considers family to sit down together for one meal."

"Well, I still think it was in bad taste."Percy said speaking up and surprising the whole group. "What?" He said stiffly, straightening his robes. "I know you all think that I don't care what happens in this family, but I do. Ron is my brother after all and he's going to have a hard enough time as it is. He doesn't need to be tormented this way as well."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny's eyes narrowed on one brother as concern instantly washed over her for another.

Percy sighed as he looked around. "I really had hoped to get confirmation from Ron before I said anything. But seeing as he's not here I am going to assume that what I've heard is true and it might be wise to forewarn you. Today at the Ministry…"

Percy was interrupted by a loud bang that had everyone turning in surprise. Ron's tall, muscular body now stood in the back garden, turned away from the small group, and facing towards the house. "Harry!" he cried out, his voice filled with anguish. "Harry, where are you!"

"I'm over here, Ron." The tall redhead swung around as the group stepped aside so that Harry could pass. "What is it?" He asked, taking in the terrifying sight of an anguished Ron, "What's happened?" He shifted Bryony so that she was resting against his shoulder.

"Harry, please. You have to help me. You have to help me get her back."

"Wha…"

Ron took Harry firmly by the arms. "They've taken her, Harry. They've taken her and they won't give her back to me. They snuck in like thieves and took her. You have to help me. You have to help me get her back." The first trace of tears began to course down his cheeks but he seemed unaware of them in his torment.

"Ron, who is they and who did they take? Was it Blake?"

"Of course it was Blake!" Ron shouted, wrenching away from Harry, his despair suddenly turning to fury. "Who else would we be talking about? They took her while I was at work, when they knew I wouldn't be there to fight them off. Harry you have to help me get her back. I don't know what else to do. I've gone to Greene and I've gone to Shakelbolt, there's nothing they can. You're the only one who can help me now. Please,"

"What do you think I can do?"

"What can't you do? You're Harry bloody Potter! Please Harry, I've never asked you for anything before. Please, help me now."

"I don't know if I can. I mean, I'll try but…this might be beyond anything I can do."

"Don't say that, please. Don't say that."

"Ron, take a deep breath and try and calm down."

"Don't tell me to try and calm down." He shouted angrily. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Yes. How could you even ask? But you have to tell me what's happening. I don't understand. Who took Blake? Where is she now?"

Ron tried to take a calming breath but it didn't help, it only agitated him worse. "Ministry Officials took her. They won't tell me anything. They're treating me like I've done something wrong. Like _I've_ committed a crime. I did everything by the book, Harry. I did everything they told me to do. Why are they doing this to me?"

"I…I don't know. Why did they take her in the first place?"

"It's the most absurd thing I've ever heard." Ron turned and began tugging at his hair as he paced. "He's a convicted Death Eater and they're actually listening to him."

"Who is?"

"Malacar Amadeus. He's claiming that he's Blake's godfather and that when her parents died all parental rights should have been passed on to him."

Harry stared at Ron blankly for a moment. "Fuck. Ron, I'm sorry."

"Don't you tell me that! Don't you dare even think it!" He clenched his hands into tight fists. "Just help me fix this."

The back door to the Burrow opened and Parker and Hermione stepped out into the night. "Ron?" Parker stopped just outside the door on the first step, the stain gone from his robes and his hand slung comfortably around Hermione's waist. He stared at his friend and Captain in disbelief, never before having seen him in such a disheveled, hysterical state. "What happened? What's wrong?" He asked, instantly knowing something was the matter.

The tears in Ron's eyes instantly ceased and the blue orbs turned cold as he spotted the pair, still holding on to each other, in _his_ back yard, and was overcome with unimaginable rage. He could feel the blood begin to pound more fiercely inside his chest and a vein appeared suddenly at his temple. All the hurt, anger and hostility he felt towards the Ministry was immediately transferred to the two who stood frozen in fear by the look in his eyes.

"What's this?" His voice was terrifyingly devoid of warmth. "What are you doing here with _her_?"

Acting upon the need for self preservation Parker snatched his hand away from Hermione's waist.

"It wasn't Parker's fault." Hermione said meekly, cowering beneath the intense fire in his eyes. "We…"

"I wasn't talking to _you_!" Ron snapped. "I was talking to Parker. What are you doing here with _her_?"

Feeling suddenly annoyed with her own cowardice and quite irritated by the way Ron had ruined the mood of the evening, she stepped off the stairs and onto the grass. "Don't answer that, Parker." She lifted her chin defiantly. "There's no need to explain our presences." She crossed her arms angrily over her chest. "We have an invitation."

"From who?"

"You mother."

Ron's eyes flashed to the house. "She was mistaken. You're not wanted here. Either of you." His eyes flashed momentarily to Parker, "Leave."

"How dare you?" Hermione uncrossed her arms as she stomped her foot angrily. "What makes you think you have the right to treat either of us like this? In case you've failed to notice, _Ronald_, but you're not the only person with an opinion here. Did you ever think that perhaps other members of your family want me here? Did you? I happen to love your family, and I will not allow _you _to keep me away from them."

"Hermione," Reacting to the still fury he could see smoldering inside Ron and recognizing it as being more dangerous than his thunderous anger ever was, Parker stepped off the last step and took her arm, drawing her back, his eyes never leaving Ron. "I think we'd better leave."

"No," she pulled her arm free. "Mrs Weasley invited us here and we're staying."

"You see, Gale? What did I tell you? Nothing but trouble."

Hermione's mouth gapped open in indignation as Parker's eyes widened with surprise. "Gale?" he asked uneasily. "You've never called me that before."

Ron's chin stiffened more. "You've never given me reason to. You've always done as I asked you, no questions. Why this time? What are you doing here? I asked you to stay away from her." He shook his head as the knot grew thicker in his throat. "Where were you today? I came looking for you. I needed your help and you weren't there."Ron's eyes widened momentarily with realization. "You were off with _her_ weren't you?"Ron's eyes focused on Hermione and Parker was instantly frightened. "You know what? That's it. I'm not asking you anymore. As you're superior I'm ordering you to stay away from her. She's nothing but poison. A venomous snake. Look what she's done to us."

Hermione's eyes flared to life. "What I've done to you?" Her voice was so low it was almost inaudible. "How dare you?" She shouted, taking an irate step forward. "This is all your fault, you manipulative, cold hearted, bastard!" She shoved angrily at his chest. "You _order _him to stay away from me? Why, Ron? Why must you try and take everything from me? Haven't you done enough already? Haven't you hurt me to your satisfaction yet?" She pounded angrily on his chest. "What the hell did I ever do to you? What did I do that caused you to hate me so much?" She wiped furiously at her eyes. "How dare you treat me like this? I never hurt you. I never hurt anyone. Can you say the same? Can you? Don't bother answering, I already know." She was crying hysterically now, pounding against his solid chest until the sides of her hands hurt. "How could you do that, Ron? How could you use me like that? You were supposed to be my best friend. You were meant to look out for me, not use me like your dirty little play thing."

Ron shoved her angrily away, his eyes narrowing with disgust. "How can you stand there and act all innocent? You never hurt _anyone_? I knew you were a condescending bitch, but even you couldn't be that stupid. Merlin, it sickens me to look at you."

Hermione staggered backwards, stunned by the sheer hatred he radiated towards her.

"Ron. Hermione. That's enough."

Ron turned on Parker, his face a mask of hatred and disdain. "Why don't you just take her home? Harry and Ginny aren't there; you can shag her anywhere you want to and be done with it. Isn't that what you were talking about in Taymyr? Getting inside her knickers? You might as well go now and be done with it. That's all a woman like her is good for anyway."

"Is that what you think?" Hermione found her voice again. "Is that what you really think? So the truth finally comes out. All these years I wondered and now it's all so clear. Is it just me, Ron? Or is that the only thing all women are good for?" She ripped her arm out of Parker's grasp when he tried to lead her away. "Come on, out with it. Is it just me, or is it all women that you hold in such disdain?" Ron remained quiet but it didn't matter, she could see the truth of it in his eyes. "I was right, I didn't want to be, but clearly I was. You really are a heartless bastard and someone should take that sweet little girl away from you before you ruin her."

The garden around them fell eerily quiet. Hermione took a step back as for the first time since she had known him Hermione feared that Ron would strike her. But he didn't move. He just stared at her. Fists clenched so tight the knuckles were white. "Are you through?"

"No," She said, though she wasn't sure where the courage to say so had come from. "This isn't over."

Ron turned and began to walk away.

"That's right." She called after him. "Run away like you always do. Why you were ever put in Gryffindor I'll never know. You're a coward, Ron Weasley. A coward."

"That's enough." His voice was dead calm and had the desired effect. Hermione fell abruptly silent. Ron turned around, latched onto her wrist and began towing her behind him. "Come with me."

The heady effect of bravery she had been feeling moments ago instantly evaporated as terror for her safety took over. "Ron, stop. Let me go. I'm not going anywhere with you." She attempted to dig her heals into the ground as she tried to break free of his iron strong grasp. Her toe caught on a rock and she staggered forward but quickly gained her feet and tried again. "Ron! Let Me Go!"

Stopping suddenly, Ron flung her around so that she was in front of him, abruptly pulled her tight to his chest, and latched an arm securely around her middle moments before he turned and the both of them disappeared.


	14. Sometimes Sorry Isn’t Good Enough

* * *

Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I hope I got to you all in a timely fashion, and I really enjoyed hearing what you had to say. It spurred me on to get this chapter done and posted that much faster, so please forgive the mistakes as any that you find are becasue I probably should have read through it one more time, but I just couldn't wait. I want to thank you all once again for taking the time to read my story. I love you all. I hope you find this chapter as enjoyable as the last. Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Sometimes Sorry Isn't Good Enough

"You apparated us?" Hermione shoved angrily at Ron's chest and knocked his hands away, freeing her from the prison his strong arms made. "I can't believe you apparated us!"

"Be thankful that's all I did."

"Thankful? You stupid pratt! You could have splinched us both!"

"No," he said, the tone of his voice conveying his annoyance. "I couldn't have."

"Yes, you could. When one tries to side-along apparate with a reluctant…

"Do you honestly think," he said, cutting her off, "I could have risen to the position I have in the Ministry if I didn't know how to side-along apparate a reluctant prisoner?" he asked angrily, thrusting his hand into his pocket and pulling out his wand. "You were in no harm."

Hermione's eyes instantly focused on the drawn wand Ron gripped. "What are you doing?"

The tall redhead ignored her as he moved his wand in an intricate pattern pointing it to the different corners of the room. "I don't know what you're complaining about." He said as he finished, returning the wand to his pocket. "It was either side-along appiration or throttling you, which trust me, would have been no less then you deserved."

"Me?" Hermione continued to stare uneasily at the pocket where he had stored his wand. "What did I do?"

"What did you do? What did you do?!" Ron's voice rose with anger. "Is it not enough that you used me and my affections for your own twisted pleasure but you had to press my family into this mess as well?"

"Excuse me?" Her eyes snapped from his pocket to his face, the brown orbs wide with incredulity. "I used _you _and _your _affections? What delusional world have you been living in? I did no such thing." Ron frowned with displeasure before turning and striding towards a half closed door a short distance down the darkened corridor. "Don't you walk away from me Ronald Weasley." She said striding irately after him. "Where are we? Where have you taken me?

Ignoring her, Ron pushed open the door of his study and went inside, not bothering to wait and see if she followed. "I've taken you to my home." He said, striding through the darkening room to the liquor cabinet in the corner. He pulled the stopper out of a large bottle of whiskey and splashed a generous amount into a clean glass. Exhaling heavily he set the bottle down with a loud thump. "Please don't touch anything."

Hermione, who had been just about to straighten one of the picture frames on the near by wall, snatched her hand away and hid it awkwardly behind the folds of her robes. "Why did you bring me here? And what was that you just did with your wand?" She asked quickly, trying to hide her discomfort behind words.

"I brought you here so we could talk privately." He turned to face her, leaning his hip against the liquor cabinet. "You did wish to talk, didn't you?"

"Not when you're like this. I insist you take me back to the Burrow."

"Hermione, it's now or never. I never had any desire to have this conversation in the first place and would personally much rather leave this all in the past where it belongs and go about disregarding your existence, but since you seem to insist upon it we will finish it now or not at all. It's your decision. Whatever else you could possibly have to say to me after that display back at the Burrow I don't know, but I am anxious to hear it. So go on. Tell me. What else have I done to _you_?"

Hermione's back stiffened at the bitter edge in his voice. She could tell Ron was seconds away from losing control of his temper. His fingers were wrapped tight around his glass to the point where the knuckles were turning white and his jaw was so stiff it looked almost painful. But it was his eyes that frightened her most of all. They were bright with an inner rage that turned them the dark shade of a sapphire. "I…" she swallowed nervously, "I think you should take me back."

"No. Not until we have this all out. Whatever else you have to say to me my family doesn't need to be privy too. And trust me, you don't want them to hear what I have to say to you."

"What do you have to say that your family couldn't hear?"

"Oh I don't know," he took a slow sip from his glass. "Perhaps that you're a manipulative, calculating, slag."

Hermione squared her shoulders and stiffened her chin. "You already told them that." She said evenly, refusing to let him see that his words had any effect on her.

"Did I?" He pushed away from the cabinet to step in front of her, using his daunting height to try and cow her. He leaned over her as he took one step forward and then another, forcing her to look up at him as he backed her into the wall. "Did I also tell them that you are a two faced bitch. A high and mighty, snobbish whore, who finds enjoyment in sleeping with people who she finds beneath her?"

Hermione's fingers curled into tight fists. "No." She said coldly, shoving him away. "You didn't."

"Too bad. I think they should know that about you as well." He left her pressed against the wall as he walked away, lifting his drink to his lips and taking a liberal pull.

"You're heartless bastard." She threw back at him.

"You've already said that. Come now, Hermione," He turned about to face her. "You were so eager to share all my perceived faults in front of my family, what's different now? No one around to hear you slander my name?"

"Your perceived faults?" She asked sharply, stepping away from the wall, angry with herself for letting him intimidate her into submission. Forgetting her unease as her own temper began to resurface she took a few more steps into the room. "There was nothing perceived about what I said. It was all true. You took advantage of my vulnerability then tossed me aside when you were finished with me, like I was a play thing only there for your enjoyment."

"I seem to recall things differently. As much as I remember you didn't have any objections to my presence until afterwards. Not until you got what you wanted and realized _who_ exactly you had gotten it with."

"You think I took advantage of you?" She cried with disbelief. "Who out of the two of us has a history of taking advantage of the other? In case I need to refresh your memory that would be you. Not me. You took advantage of me and my kindness all through school, and that night was no different. You took advantage of my vulnerability."

"Your vulnerability?" Ron snorted bitterly. "That's a laugh. You don't know what that word means. You never let anyone into that tight, controlled little world you live in. You only ever let people in when you need something from them. What did you need from me that night? A quick shag? A diversion to keep yourself from thinking about what had happened? Damn it, Hermione! Did you really think so little of me? Was I that repulsive to you? Was the idea of sleeping with me so disgusting that you had to scream at me like that?" She watched the ball move in his throat as he swallowed, displaying the first glimpse of emotion since leaving the garden.

Hermione's eyes widened with uncertainty. "You said it was a mistake."

"Only because you did." He said sharply as he turned and walked to the opposite end of the room where he looked out his window into the back garden.

"What?"

"Stop it." He snarled with anger, his fingers biting into the wood of the sill. "Don't pretend like you don't know exactly what was going on that morning. You knew how I felt about you. You knew and you used it to your advantage." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "You knew I was going to tell you I loved you."

Hermione's eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. "No. That's not possible."

"What do you mean that's not possible?"

Hermione shook her head frantically. "Don't lie to me, Ron. Don't."

Ron turned sharply to face her. "What point would there be in lying to you now? All these years later? What could I possibly have to gain?"

"But..." she shook her head, completely stunned, "I didn't know. I swear…"

"Stop lying!" He roared, his voice echoing off the walls and causing her to flinch. "I'm tired of you lying to me."

"Ron, I swear," She held up her hands beseechingly. "I had no idea."

Ron stared her down with his cold blue eyes. "I don't believe you." He tossed back the rest of his glass before slamming it down on his desk. He turned and replaced his hands on the windowsill, leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the cool pane of glass.

"It's true." Hermione closed her eyes as the enormity of all that went wrong that morning five years ago began to wash over her. "I didn't know." She covered her face with her hands. "If I had I never would have said what I did."

"Right. If you think for one moment I'm going to believe that you're as delusional as I was all those years ago."

"But Ron…"

"Do you know what the worst part is?" He turned his head to glare back over his shoulder at her. "I suffered under that delusion for years. For four years while we were at school and for two years after you had left. I tormented myself for six years trying to prove I was good enough for you. And finally one day it came to me. It didn't matter." He returned his focus outside. "You would never feel about me the way I felt about you. Suddenly I no longer wanted to just prove I was good enough for you, I wanted to prove I was better. And I did." He pushed confidently away from the sill as he turned to look at her. "Look what I've done, Hermione. Look at what all I accomplished without you." He extended his hands wide. "I did all this."

Hermione reluctantly looked about and could not help but feel admiration. If the rest of the house was as well put together as this room then he had indeed done well. "It's beautiful."

"I knew you would like it." He dropped his hands. "When I bought this house I had you in mind."

"You did?"

"Yes. Despite the fact that you had left me, ran away to Spain, and refused to speak with me. I was still convinced that when you came back we could be together. That my dreams were not the foolish wishings of a naïve boy. But you didn't come back. You didn't come back, you didn't write and two and a half years passed. And finally when I couldn't take it anymore I gave up on that dream. This is _my_ house now. _My_ home. I paid for it with _my_ earnings. _I_ did it. Despite your lack of faith in me, or more aptly because of it. I did it all. I proved I was better then you. And you can't take that away from me."

She shook her head sadly. "I never thought I was better then you." Her voice cracked.

"Please, stop insulting me with your lies."

"I'm not." She cried. "I never thought I was better then you. Don't you understand? I was scared. I didn't want to lose you."

"Lose me? You never had me."

"Your friendship was the most important thing in my life. I was terrified to lose that."

"I don't think you chose the right way of conveying that message. Screaming that you couldn't believe you had let yourself sleep with me and that it was all a colossal mistake, something that never should have happened was not the way to go about it."

"I wasn't thinking straight." She took another step towards him. "Ron, you don't understand."

"You're right about that."

Hermione stuck her fingers through her mass of hair in frustration and gripped tightly. She was losing him. She could feel it. Past experience said anything was better than the cold indifference he was displaying now. Even righteous anger would have been better. At least then she would know he was feeling something. She could work with that. But this… She needed to do something drastic or all hope of reconciliation would be lost. But as terrifying as that thought was she couldn't help but feel a meagre amount of inner joy. He had loved her. He said it himself. He had loved her once. If he could find the courage to admit that to her now then she could surely find the strength to do the same.

"Ron," she ran her tongue over her dry lips. "You were my world." She said tentatively and cringed when she saw him flinch at her words. "You meant everything to me." She persisted, shortening the gap between them until she was standing directly behind him. Tentatively she placed a hand on his shoulder only to have him move stiffly away to the other window. "Don't you see?" She said desperately. "I was in love with you? I would have done anything for you. I sacrificed my happiness because I thought that was what you wanted."

Ron turned slowly to face her. "You thought I wanted you to rip my heart out?"

"No!"

"Because that's what you did."

Hermione shook her head desperately.

"My God," Ron thread his fingers through his dark red hair, causing it to stand on end. "Don't you get it? Before you woke up I was the happiest I had ever been in my life. I thought after all those years of struggling and fighting and almosts we had finally gotten it right." He lowered his head until his chin was just above his chest. "I was trying to find the right words to tell you I love you. I was debating whether I should tell you as soon as you woke up or wait and take you to dinner somewhere nice. I was such a fool. I could see our entire life together spread out before me. The way I would propose to you, not straight away of course, but soon. I imagined what it would feel like to wake up with you in my arms every morning. I thought about how many children we would have, and what they would look like. Did you know I couldn't hold a baby for years? I wanted to. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Everyone thought I was too terrified to hold a baby and I let them think that because I didn't want them to know the truth. I couldn't even bring myself to hold Si until he was nearly two years old and he's my godson."

"But why?"

"Because," Ron focused on the swing swaying gently in the wind outside the window. "Every time I tried I only saw that baby I had dreamed about having with you. Every new baby born into the family was another sharp reminder that I would never get to have one with you. And then after some time I came to accept that fact, but it was still a struggle. I was terrified that if I dared hold one all those old feelings would come rushing back to smother me."

"Ron, I…"

"So there you have it." he sank onto the window sill, propped his elbows on his knees, and cupped his head in his hands. "You know all the pathetic details of my affections for you. You can go ahead now and laugh."

"Why would I do that?" Hermione lifted her hand to place it comfortingly on the crown of his head but stopped before her fingers could touch the soft strands. "I wanted all that as well."

"Then why?" Ron lifted his head off his hands to reveal eyes wet with shame. "Why did you do that?"

Hermione brushed away the tear that escaped from her eye. "Because, I didn't think you wanted me."

"You didn't think I wanted you?" he asked dumbly.

She shook her head once.

"Hermione think, what other reason would I have had for sleeping with you? Witches were throwing themselves at me and Harry. If all I wanted was a quick shag I could have picked any one of them."

"I didn't think of that." She latched onto her face and her fingernails gouged in deep to her cheeks, milking the colour out of her tanned skin. "It all made sense to me at the time. I thought you had slept with me out of psychological desire to reaffirm your life."

"You though what?"

"Don't look at me like I'm mental." She stomped her foot. "It's real. When a person survives a traumatic, life threatening, experiences he or she has a biological need to reassert that they survived."

"And you thought that was what happened between us."

"It was the only explanation I could think of."

"And it never crossed your mind that I might have slept with you because I loved you?"

"No." She lowered her face to hide her anguish. "You had already made it perfectly clear that you didn't want me."

"How do you reckon that?"

"Sixth year." She said in a barely audible whisper. "Don't you recall? I invited you to attend Slughorn's party with me and you accepted my invitation then turned around and started snogging Lavender Brown. Talk about ripping the heart out of someone's chest. You couldn't have hurt me more if you had shagged her right in front of me. But like the masochistic fool that I was I continued to hope that one day you would look at me the same way that I looked at you. But you never did." Hermione lifted her face bravely as she tried in vain to stop the flow of tears. "And then we slept together and I panicked. You never gave me any reason to believe you wanted anything more than a quick shag from me and your behaviour with Lavender the year before did not help to prove otherwise. I knew you didn't want me and I knew you would regret what we did or feel obligated to make amends somehow and my deepest fear was that you would do that by being with me when you really didn't wish to be. I couldn't allow that to happen. I didn't want to be with you if you were only with me out of pity. And because I was so in love with you I tried to give you a way out without making you feel awkward or guilty. So yes, I said it. I told you it was a mistake, that we never should have done it and that we should forget that it had ever happened because I didn't want to lose you or your friendship. And irony of all irony," her voice trembled with unshed tears, "I lost it anyway."

Ron's mouth had parted with astonishment. "For fucks sake, Hermione," he rose from his seat on the sill. "Why would you do that?"

"I told you I…"

"Damn it, Hermione. You're too brainy for you own good. You over think things and assume the worst about people without giving them a chance. Why couldn't you have just taken a chance on me? Why couldn't you have given me the opportunity to be the better man?"

"You still could have been the better man. You could have taken that chance."

"How do you reckon?"

"You could have denied it. You could have said it wasn't a mistake."

"Are you insane? Hermione," he gripped his hair as he paced a few steps, "I was a seventeen year old boy who, using your own words, had the emotional range of a teaspoon. It terrified me that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Don't you think you were asking a bit much?"

"You were a Gryffindor!"

"So were you!"

Hermione turned her face away.

Ron pressed the pads of his hands into his eyes as he took several deep breaths. "If you wanted to remain my friend, why did you avoid me? Why didn't you answer any of my owls?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle. "I don't know." She turned her back to him. "I…I needed time. It was too much to take in. What with the end of the war, sleeping with you, what that meant in regards to our friendship. I couldn't handle it all."

"And you couldn't have told me that? I would have understood. Don't you think I was struggling with the same issues? We could have dealt with it together. All it would have taken was one response to my owls, just so I knew you were alright."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not good enough." He resumed pacing. "It doesn't change anything. It doesn't erase all the harsh words we've said to each other. All this time we've spent loathing each other. I didn't want to lose you either. Despite everything you said and did I was still in love with you. I still wanted to make things right. And I tried." He stopped and turned to face her. "I came to your home. I asked to speak with you. But your parents turned me away, on _your_ order. And don't," he sternly pointed a finger at her, "try and deny it. I heard you speaking with them before I rang the bell. Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

"No." her voice cracked.

"All I wanted was to make certain you were alright and that things had returned to normal like you said they would. But you didn't want to see me. And that's when I came to the realization that you thought I wasn't good enough for you. I always suspected you didn't."

"What?"

"You never belittled Harry the way you did me."

"I never beli..."

"You did all the time. Nothing I ever did was good enough for you. I wasn't smart enough, clean enough, athletic enough. I ate and slept too much. I wasn't kind enough."

"You misunderstood..."

"How do you misunderstand that?"

"I only ever wanted you to be the best you could be. Do you think if I hadn't cared so much I would have tried so hard or worried so much about you? That's why I focused more on you then Harry. I didn't care as much about him. And besides, what about you? You treated me like I wasn't good enough for you either."

"I did not."

"Oh please. I was too bookish. How many times did you tell me I was an obnoxious know-it-all? I wasn't pretty like Lavender of Fleur and so not worth your notice. It took you _four years_ to even realize I was a girl. And look how that turned out for me. And," she jabbed a finger into his chest, "I wasn't the only one who didn't respond to owls. I tried for three weeks to contact you and you didn't respond in turn."

"When was this?"

"After you came to my house. I felt guilty for not coming down to speak with you and I tried to make amends."

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "Unlike you, I have a reasonable explanation as to why I didn't respond."

"And that would be?"

"I went directly to the Ministry after leaving your house and signed up with the Aurors. I foolishly thought it was the only way I could prove my worth to you."

"I don't understand how that can be considered a reasonable explanation?"

"Trainees are not allowed correspondences until their fifth week in the program."

Hermione's eyes grew wide with realization. "I didn't know that."

"Everyone knows that."

"I didn't!" she snapped. "Besides, what use would that knowledge have done me? I didn't know you had any intention of being an Auror. I heard nothing of it until Ginny wrote me that you had graduated."

"Similar to how your parents had to tell me you moved to Spain well after you had left?' Hermione opened her mouth to protest but closed it. There was nothing she could say to that. "Why didn't you tell me about the job offer?"

"We weren't speaking and…"

"You knew before the final battle. Harry told me you were offered the job in May, which was well before we stopped talking to each other."

Hermione lowered her eyes as she gnawed painfully on her lip. "I didn't feel I could tell you."

"Why?"

"Because you were the only reason I had for not taking it." She picked aimlessly at one of the buttons lining the front of her robes. "You were my deciding factor, Ron. I would have turned it down, all of it, in a heartbeat if I had thought for one moment we actually had a chance of being together. I accepted the job because I thought it would do us both good to have that time apart. I never thought we would go so long without speaking."

"Yes, well…"

"And I never thought you would hate me so much when I returned."

"You gave me five years in which you never wrote to stew. I would have hated Harry for less."

"I didn't think you wanted to hear from me."

"I didn't want anything to do with you." He clarified.

"I know."

"I would have been perfectly content to never seen you again."

"I know that as well."

Silence fell between them for several long minutes. "Why did you have to go after Parker?" Ron finally asked. "Why did it have to be him?" His eyes had the uncanny ability to feel like they boar into her.

"I didn't go after him."

"You didn't steer clear of him either." Ron said angrily, charging slowly toward her. "I asked you to leave him alone."

"And why was that exactly?" Hermione turned to face him with her hands planted firmly on her hips and her right toe tapping an aggravated pattern. "What reason did you have for asking that of Parker and me? What was it? Were you scared he would actually make me happy?"

"No."

"Then what?" She stepped closer when he didn't answer. "What?"

"You weren't the right person for him."

Hermione took another angry step. "Shouldn't he have been allowed to make that decision for himself?"

"No."

"No?" she asked with mock surprise. "Does that mean you don't trust him? Your second in command?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean…" His face flushed with colour.

"Well, what is it?" She took another step, stopping directly in front of him. "Yes or no?"

Angry with Hermione for flustering him so, Ron straightened to his full daunting height. "Parker Gale is not the man for you and I'll advise you to stay away from him." He said in what he hopped was his most commanding voice.

"Or what?" She jabbed him in the chest. "What?' She jabbed again. "You'll humiliate me in front of the people I love? You've already done then. Bully me? Manhandle me? Break my heart? What's left? You've already done it all. I suppose you could always demolish my reputation at the Ministry. Or you could continue to do what you've already started and chase away my every chance at happiness. When is this going to end, Ron? How long are you going to punish me for something that happened five years ago? Something we both had an equal part in bringing about? Must I continue to be miserable and alone because you're too cowardly to find your own happiness?"

Ron's hands darted suddenly forward and latched onto her arms, drawing her abruptly to his chest. "Parker Gale is not the right man for you." He snarled through gritted teeth.

Hermione stared unblinkingly into his blue eyes. "And you think you know who is?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well is stands to reason if you _know _Parker is not the right man for me you must know who is. Tell me Ron," She threw his hands off. "What low life scum do you think I'm worthy of? That's what I thought." She said when he remained quiet. "I'm meant to be alone aren't I? Don't worry," she took a step back, "After my last experience with you I'll never trust a man again. You know what," she asked as she walked towards the door. "I think I'll go see if I can find Parker and learn what exactly he had in mind for me. A meaningless shag anywhere in Harry's house doesn't sound so bad right about now."

"Hermione, stop."

"You can't tell me what to do." She said dismissively over her shoulder.

Before her fingers could brush the handle of the door a strong hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her back. "Don't even think about it." He snarled into her face.

"And why not?" she tried to pull free of his grasp. "That's all I'm good for, isn't it? A quick shag? That's what you told Parker."

"I'm sorry." He said uneasily. "I shouldn't have said that. I was angry."

"You were right before. Sometimes sorry isn't good enough." She pulled her wrist free. "If you're really sorry, you'll leave me alone and stop intervening between me and Parker."

"I can't do that." He said through gritted teeth.

"Why? Why not?"

"Because," he latched on to her upper arms. "You aren't meant to be with him," he brought her so that their faces were a breath apart. "You're meant to be with me." He shook her slightly. "Damn it. It's always been me. Don't you understand that? It drives me mad to see another man look at you. To touch you the way only I should be allowed to. It makes me so mad with jealousy I can't think straight. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to pummel Parker at Blake's naming ceremony, friend or no, for so much as even touching you. I can't do it, Hermione. I can't leave you alone. I never could."

Ron couldn't move, unable to believe he had said all that he had. He stared transfixed into her eyes. They glowed bright with a passion that held him captive in their hypnotic depths. His blue eyes left her brown ones to find the two soft lips that fell open when his sight touched them, forcing him to swallow and fight back the overwhelming hunger to bend his head and take what he most desired. She tilted her chin back and her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Ron felt himself being drawn compellingly toward her only to stop a breath away from what he craved most. His hands left her arms to cup her face and hold it still as he bent his brow to hers. His eyes fell closed. "I can't do this."

"What?" she gasped as his hands fell away and he took a step back. "Ron…"

"Go." He turned his back to her. "Before we both do something we'll regret in the morning."

"I don't understand. I thought..."

"Hermione, please," his voice was high with desperation. "I won't survive another heartbreak from you. Not now. I couldn't endure that on top of everything else."

"Ron," she slipped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes regretfully when she felt him cringe at her touch. "Ron…I love you."

"Don't say that." He put his hands to her wrists, preparing to pry them from around his middle only to have her tense and grip him tighter. "Hermione, don't. Don't lie to me. I can't..."

"I'm not lying." She turned her face to press a kiss to his shoulder blade. "I lov…"

"How can you say that?" He tore angrily out of her arms and put the length of the room between them. "Do you hear yourself? Hermione, you hate me. I hate you."

She flinched at his words. "No. This has all just been a misunderstanding."

"It doesn't work that way." He said adamantly. "You can't just say it was all a misunderstanding and make it go away. We've hurt each other badly. We haven't spoken in years. I-I'm not the same person I was."

"Yes you are."

"And that's another reason." He used his hand to gesture at her, "You can't see me for the man I am now. I've changed. So don't pretend to have feelings for me that you couldn't possibly have."

"But I do." She seemed to come apart in front of his eyes. She drew in an unsteady breath as her eyes brimmed over with tears. "Since the first day I returned to England everyone has tried to tell me how much you've changed. How mature and responsible you've become. But it's not true, you haven't changed. Not really. It's just that you've finally let everyone else see what I've always known was inside of you. And as much as you try and hide it, the boy that I fell I love with is still inside you. You're just as brave, stubborn, loyal, opinionated and clever as he ever was. I love who you've let yourself become. And my God Ron, the way you so obviously love Blake. You're so wonderful with her. I fell in love with you all over again the first time I saw you with her, but I was too stupid and stubborn to admit it even to myself. But I'm not going to do that anymore. You're right. I should have taken a chance five years ago. If I had we could have had all these years together. I would give anything to take that back. But I can't. So I'm going to take that chance now." She held her hand out to him beseechingly, "Ron please, I love you. I love everything about you. I always have, I always will."

Her words hung heavy and unanswered in the air between them. Ron remained where he was, frozen as if by a charm and Hermione, taking his silence for rejection, collapsed. Gasping with pain she turned away from him. Wrapping her arms around her middle she bent forward trying to stop the sobs from escaping her lips, her shoulders trembling violently from the effort.

"Gods Hermione," Ron croaked. "Don't cry." He hurried across the room and took her in his arms, turning her about and drawing her tight into his embrace, pressing her face into his chest. "I hate it when you cry." His fingers tangled in her hair. "Please love," he tilted her chin up. "Don't. I can't bear it." He slid his fingers tenderly along her jaw line until they cupped her cheek lovingly. He closed his eyes and leaned his brow against hers. "Merlin help me, but I love you. I love you so much. Please love. Please stop crying."

For a moment Hermione's heart seemed to stop as his words penetrated the haze of misery clouding her brain and sweet relief coursed through her body, breaking down the last of her control. She clung to him desperately as her knees gave out beneath her. Ron's arms swooped down and caught her easily, lifting her back onto her feet and moulding her body tenderly to his. "Hermione," he whispered, his nose bumping lightly against hers, stopping him from seeking more. "I really want to kiss you."

Laughing through her tears of relief at the near absurdity of his statement, Hermione let her fingers drift across the sharp line of his jaw, cupping his face in between her hands and drawing him near. The first touch of their lips was hesitant and soft, both too frightened to seek more, but there was no denying the electricity that speed through their bodies at the contact. All hesitancy disappeared in the wake of urgency as their mouths came together, lips parting, tongues seeking, both desperate for the others touch.

Frantic for more contact Ron stepped into her, slowly backing her into the wall behind them. He couldn't seem to touch her enough. His hands grazed her body from hip to shoulder blade, the barrier of her robes too much for them both. Growling with frustration Ron attacked the buttons of her robes, freeing just enough so that he could push the garment off her shoulders and let it slide easily to the floor. Free of the bulky hindrance, Ron set his hands on her waist and moulded her contours to his. Moaning with desire, Hermione surrendered fully to his touch, eyes falling closed as his fingers grazed the curve of her breast before cupping it tenderly. Hermione's fingers slid out of his hair and onto his neck, resting there a moment before she twined her arms about him, using them as leverage to life first one foot, then the other, off the floor and too wrap her legs around his hips bringing him into contact where she wanted him most.

With a mighty struggle Ron tore his lips from Hermione's and pressed hungry kisses to her neck. "Merlin, what you do to me."

Hermione chuckled as she struggled with the top buttons of his robes, then his shirt beneath. When there was enough of a gap she dipped her head and pressed her lips to the exposed skin as she continued to work on the rest.

"Hermione?" He said desperately, his fingers tightening on her hips.

She lifted her eyes to his and saw the question there. Biting her lip, she smiled impishly as she leaned in for a kiss before pulling away, resting her back against the wall and reaching for the top buttons of her blouse. Growling with passion Ron swooped in and captured her lips hungrily.


	15. Top Priority

* * *

Hello Everyone. I know it's been a terribly long time since I last posted. The only excuse I have is that classes started and I no longer have the time to work on this like I did before. I would have liked to go through one more time to look for mistakes and to clean things up a bit, but the library is about to close and I no longer have the internet at my accommodations so it's either post it now or you all have to wait until tomorrow. I thought you would appreciate a post today, so if you spot any spelling mistakes please try your best to ignore them. I hope you all are doing well and I can't wait to hear from you. Happy Reading, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Top Priority

"There's no point continuing." Fred said jerking down first one rolled up sleeve and then the other, returning them to their normal state. "We've searched the entire perimeter for a weakness. I don't think we'll find a way in?"

"I didn't really think we would." Harry said pocketing his wand as he stepped up beside his brother-in-law.

"There's something I still don't understand." George said, tilting his head contemplatively to the side. "Why did he bring her here? It doesn't seem like the type of thing Ron would do."

"It's exactly the type of thing Ron would do," Parker said, narrowing his eyes on the dark building that was Ron's home. "It's battle tactic. It's always good to have an advantage over your opponent. In this case he not only gained the upper hand by taking her by surprise but he brought her to his home. The one place in the world he knows better than anyone else and the one place he knows without a doubt she's never stepped foot."

"But he had to have known we were going to come after her." Charlie said. "Wouldn't it have been wiser to bring her somewhere we wouldn't have thought to look?"

Parker shook his head. "Are you joking? Charlie, we've been here for three hours and we haven't made any progress. No, Ron knows what he's doing. He wanted to make sure no one could disturb them. If he had gone anywhere else he would have been able to produce mediocre wards at best. We would have broken through in minutes. He already had everything set up here. All he needed to do was activate the wards already in place. It would have taken less than a minute. It'll take us another five hours, at the least, to break these down, and by the time we do that the next set will already be up."

"The next set?" Bill asked while continuing to cast charms at the wards to see if he could ponder a way to get through. "How do you know there's more?"

"Because," Harry said, looking sadly at the other men, "Parker and I helped him set them up, just like he helped us set up ours. We're not getting in there." He shook his head. "It's too well protected. We made sure of it."

"But we have Bill." Charlie said, clapping his brother on the back. "If anyone can break through he can."

"Don't you understand?" Parker said whirling around. "We're not talking about just one ward. This is just the first in a series of many. Already I can guarantee you the second ward is up. It went up as soon as we started fighting this one. If by chance we did manage to break through and started working on the next one, a third would be activated. That is if he didn't just activate them all to begin with. I'm telling you, he knows what he's doing. He's trained in this. We're not getting though here tonight."

"But what about Hermione?" Harry asked. "We can't leave her with him when he's like this. There's no telling what they'll do to each other."

"Don't you think I know that?" Parker shouted, rounding on Harry. "You don't have to make me feel worse then I already do. I know this is my fault. I shouldn't have pushed so hard. I should have backed off when Ron asked me to. Now Hermione's in trouble and there's nothing I can do about it. I was just…"

"You were just…what?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed quizzically.

Parker smiled sadly. When he spoke his voice was filled with calm irony. "I just wanted to make her happy. I wanted…"

"What about Ron and his happiness?" Harry's chin stiffened irritably. "He's supposed to be one of your best friends."

Parker shook his head. "I knew he could be a stubborn arse, but I never expected him to behave like this. I've never seen him this irate before."

"That's what happens when you toy with people's emotions, Gale. Or didn't anyone ever teach you that? You had to have known how he felt about her. Everyone knew. How could you have…"

"Would you two knock it off?" Charlie snapped, stepping between them. "This isn't helping the situation. It surely isn't helping Hermione. Besides, I don't know why you're so worried about her. She's an accomplished witch, she can handle herself. Personally, I'm more inclined to worry about Ron. Don't forget, he just had his little girl taken away from him." Parker's head snapped in Charlie's direction, his eyes wide with astonishment. "You would have acted exactly the same if Hermione had said someone should take Bryony or Si away from you hours after somebody had. Under the circumstances I think Ron showed a remarkable amount of restraint."

"Wait," Parker took an involuntary step toward Charlie. "Who took Blake?"

Charlie turned to Parker, a distasteful sneer contorting his face. "As far as I have gathered, your Ministry friends did."

Parker squared his shoulders at the animosity in Charlie's voice. "I didn't know that."

"And whose fault is that? If you had been where you were supposed to be today, instead of chatting up Hermione, you could have been helping Ron."

"Charlie, lay off." Bill said straightening to his full height and tucking his wand away. "This is no more his fault then it is any of ours."

"Besides," George said, turning toward the house. "There not shouting at each other anymore. That's got to be a good sign."

"Unless they've killed each other." Harry said evenly, the tone of his voice indicating he thought that was more than a passing possibility. He turned his head towards Parker. "What do we do?" he asked, willing to set his anger for the other man aside in favor of discussing the options they had.

Parker stared quietly at the dark dwelling for several minutes. He wished one of the two people barricaded inside had taken the time to put on some lights. If he could only spot their silhouette in a window, just to know that they were both still alright, he was sure the tightening in his stomach would lessen. "Nothing." He finally said. "You all go home to your wives. I'll stay and watch the house."

"Gale…"

"Harry," He stopped the green eyed man. "I have to make sure. I won't be able to sleep unless I do."

"I'll stay with you." He insisted.

Parker shook his head adamantly. "There's no need. Besides, if you don't go home tonight Ginny'll have your head as well as mine and Ron's." He looked away from Harry to the rest of the group. "And someone needs to go back to the Burrow and assure your mother that all is well and apologize for us all running out on family diner like that."

"I'll do it." Fred stepped forward. "There's something I wanted to talk to her about anyway."

"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked uneasily as the rest prepared to apparate.

"Go." Parker turned back to the house. "I just need to make sure. I need to know if he…if they…I just need to know."

Harry grudgingly placed his hand on Parker's shoulder in an offer of comfort and support as the air rent with the cracks of bodies apparating. "You shouldn't be so terribly hard on yourself. This has been coming for a long time."

* * *

She didn't want to move. Not a breath. Not a muscle. She would have been content to lie there, enveloped in Ron's arms like this forever. His skin was warm and damp under her cheek but she didn't mind. She knew they were both warm and sweaty everywhere. She gently rubbed her face against his chest and savored the way she was being allowed to feel it rise and fall in time with his breath. Hermione shifted her leg slightly and Ron's arm tightened instinctively around her, bringing a smile to her lips. It seemed even in sleep he didn't want to stop touching her.

After they had worn each other out so completely, Hermione half expected him to collapse on top of her and fall dead into sleep. But he hadn't. He had wrapped her in his arms, rolled over, taking her with him, and proceeded to stroke her side from hip to shoulder until he fell asleep, hugging her tight to his body.

Smiling with satisfaction, Hermione slid her arm up between their bodies until it was free and rested it gently on his upper arm so that she could comfortably run her fingers through the soft strands of his fiery red hair. Wanting to be as close as possible she leaned her head forward and rested her brow against his, closed her eyes and continued to lovingly stroke his hair. She hadn't felt this happy and, because there was no other word for it, complete in five years. It was almost impossible to believe that a few short hours ago Ron was so blaringly absent from her life.

The first thing Ron noticed as he came back into consciousness was that Hermione was running her fingers through his hair. He savored the realization a moment before he pulled her even closer, molding her body more firmly to his. "What are you thinking?" He whispered after several minutes of lying there, eyes closed, breathing in her scent. He could feel her brow tense against his own.

Her fingers paused momentarily in their task before hastily continuing. "Nothing."

Ron's lips tilted up in a smirk. "You're never thinking nothing." He teased, finally opening his eyes as he leaned his head back slightly so that he could look at her. "What is it?" The hand resting on her back began the familiar, comfortable path from shoulder to hip and back again.

"Honestly?"

"Yes," his hand left her hip to brush stay tendrils of hair out of her eyes. "Honestly."

Hermione sighed heavily. "Well, I was thinking that from a logical standpoint, what we did tonight was probably a mistake."

Ron's body tensed beneath her fingers. "Oh," She could feel the stiffness in his muscles the few seconds he continued to hold her before he unwound his limbs from hers and began pulling away.

"Ron wait," she panicked. "You didn't let me finish." She held tight to him, trying to draw him back to her side until he ceased fighting and lay still, but refusing to look her in the eye for fear she would see the humiliation and pain he was trying desperately to keep hidden. "Ron," she cupped his face tenderly as she gently forced his chin up until he was looking at her. "It's true." She held him still when he flinched and made to turn away. "There are still so many things we haven't talked about. And this has all happened so fast. That brainy part of me that you're always complaining about is telling me that we should have waited. That this is only going to confuse us more. But…but," she persisted, when she felt him continue to withdraw from her, bringing her face as close to his as she dared and lowering her voice to an intimate whisper. "I was also thinking I wouldn't change this, what happened between us tonight, for anything." She smoothed back the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "I want this, Ron. I want this more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. I wouldn't change what happened between us tonight for anything in the world."

Ron tried to swallow past the hard knot that had formed in his throat but found the task difficult. "Do you…" He tried again. "Do you really think it was a mistake?"

Hermione's lips turned down with sadness at the vulnerability and insecurity swimming behind his eyes. "If we were talking about anyone else in the world but us I would say yes," she playfully bumped his nose with hers, hoping to coax a smile onto his lips. "But we're not anyone else. We're us. And we were never very good at being patient and taking things slow, were we?"

"No." he admitted.

"Besides," she moved her lips to his left ear and nibbled teasingly at the lobe. "My instincts," she whispered, her lips grazing the rim of his ear with every word, "are telling me that we did good. This…Us," she reached for his hand and slipped her fingers through his, "We feel right, don't you think?"

"Yeah," he turned his head as he brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "We do."

He changed tact so quickly Hermione had just enough time to catch the wicked smile play against his lips before he rolled over unexpectedly, trapping her body beneath his. He kissed her eagerly, his lips relentless in their mission to draw out the moan of surrender he had only learned last night he liked so much. Only when he achieved his goal did he relent and drawback, giving himself enough room to look down at her unabashedly. He ran his fingers slowly through the brown hair spread across his pillow, staring deep into her warm eyes and trying to ignore her lips, bruised and swollen from his kiss. "Hermione," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Don't ever do that to me again. You scared the hell out of me. For a moment I thought…"

She latched onto his hair and pulled him down for another kiss. "I'm sorry." She said when she released him. "I never meant… I think I just need to learn when to keep my mouth shut."

"You're right." He smirked as he stole another kiss. "You do."

"Excuse me!" She laughed with mock annoyance, loving the way his eyes glowed bright with laughter and love as he looked at her.

"Don't worry, love," He swooped down for another lingering kiss that had her eyes drifting closed in pleasure. "I think I found a new way to keep your mouth occupied."

Hermione couldn't hold back her giggle of delight as she unwound her fingers from his hair to wrap her arms slowly around his neck. "If it's what I think you have in mind you'll hear no complaints from me."

He nipped playfully at her bottom lip. "Excellent."

"I love you." She murmured when his lips were a breath away from hers.

"Love you, too." Slowly he grazed the curves of her body with the tips of his fingers, eyes closed as if determined to memorize her body by touch. "It feels wonderful to finally be able to hold you like this."

Her body instinctually arched at the contact while a soft moan escaped her lips. "Ron, can we just stay here, like this, forever?"

His fingers came to a stop just beneath the swell of her breast. Hermione watched bewilderedly as the playfulness melted from his face and the bright blue eyes calmed to a cold blue. "No, love. We can't." He reluctantly released her as he eased into a sitting position before moving to the side of the bed and swinging his legs over. He sat there, staring out the nearby window, his back tense and his fingers tightly gripping the mattress. "Hermione…maybe you were right." He said after several moments of stunned silence on her part. "We shouldn't have done this."

Hermione's body jerked into a sitting position. She snatched the sheets up to cover her chest as she rose to her knees. "What?" She wrapped the fabric tighter around herself as she moved to the side of the bed to join him. "But I thought…but you said…" Her voice sounded tight even to her own ears. "Ron?"

He dropped his head into his hands. "This is exactly what I didn't want. I don't want you to think I slept with you to forget. I didn't." He turned his head to pin her with his penetrating eyes. "That's not what this was about."

"Ron," she tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He returned his gaze to his clasped hands. "Blake."

"Blake?" Hermione sat back in surprise. "What about her? I thought she was at your mother's house."

"No." He shook his head miserably. "They took her."

"Who did?"

"The Ministry."

"The Ministry?"

He nodded.

Hermione's eyes narrowed with confusion. "Ron, I'm sorry, but I really don't follow. Why would the Ministry take Blake?"

"I was always scared something like this would happen, but I never believed it actually would. I took all the proper legal channels." He turned suddenly on her, grasping her arms almost painfully. "You believe me don't you?"

"Yes of course." She eased her arm through his grasp until her hand was holding his. "Why don't you start at the beginning? Tell me everything that's happened. Maybe I can help."

Ron's lips trembled as his eyes widened with wonder. "You would do that?"

"Of course I would." She let him lift her off the mattress and draw her onto his lap. "Why would you even question it?"

"Because," he thread his fingers through hers, "We haven't been speaking for very long. You willing to help me, no questions asked, after all these years, just feels so strange. I feel like I'm asking too much too soon."

Hermione closed her eyes as she tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. She couldn't describe how much it hurt her that their friendship had suffered so much that he felt guilty for simply asking her for help. "Ron," she ran her fingers soothingly along the bulge of muscle in his upper arm, "you've never had to ask me for my help before, you don't have to start now. You'll have it no matter what, always. But if I am going to help you I need you to tell me what happened."

Ron wrapped his other arm around her, needing the comfort of knowing she was secure in his arms before he continued. He lowered his face to rest his cheek on the crown of her head before he spoke. "My application for adoption is being contested."

"Adoption?" Hermione's head snapped up with surprise, colliding painfully with Ron's jaw. "But I thought…"

"You thought…what?" He asked with a grimace while rubbing his chin.

"I thought she was yours. Ginny said…"

"Ginny said what?" Ron's eyes focused on her with interest.

Hermione wracked her brain trying to remember what exactly it was that Ginny had said all those months ago. It felt like ages now. "It was the night of my welcome home party." She said. "Harry was leaving to go see if you had put Si down for the night and she told him to give you and the baby love. I asked her who had a baby and she said you did. I believe her exact words were, 'Ron has a baby.'"

The redhead rolled her eyes in an attempt to look annoyed but Hermione could tell that he was actually quite amused. "Well, she wasn't lying, was she? I did technically have a baby, even if she wasn't mine."

Growling with aggravation, Hermione sat back from Ron, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared out the window with annoyance. "I think I need to have a little chat with your sister. She let me think that you were a father in order to make me feel jealous."

He eased her face around so that she was looking at him again. "Did it work?"

"Of course it did." She redirected her scowl on Ron. "I hated the woman instantly." She admitted. "I hated her because I thought she was the luckiest woman on earth to have been able to win your love and an absolute fool for throwing it away. I hated that she got to have a child with you when I never would. And I hated that she had the one thing I wanted so desperately in her grasp and she threw it away. I could not comprehend what kind of woman would just leave you both behind like that. I mean, what kind…"

"You left me behind." Ron pointed out timorously.

Hermione, caught off guard, turned to face him with eyes wide and mouth gapping. She closed her lips and nodded her head in acknowledgment. "And I am sorry for that. All I can say is I didn't think I had an option. I thought you didn't want me. From the rumors I heard at the Ministry you still wanted her. You loved her and wanted her and she broke _your_ heart. I would have hated her for only that. But mostly I hated her because she wasn't me. I was a fool Ron. I tried so hard to convince not only myself but everyone else that I didn't love you anymore, that I was over you. But I wasn't. I wanted so desperately to be the person you loved and wanted, my heart ached with it. I couldn't help but think that if I had your love the way she did I never would have thrown it away."

"Hermione," Ron gently tilted her chin so that she was looking at him. "There was never a her. For a time I tried to make myself be interested in the women who threw themselves at me, but I just couldn't." He lowered his gaze when his skin began to tint with color. "I would have died rather than admit it, but I didn't want them. I couldn't want them, because none of them were you. I never wanted anyone but you. Hell, I didn't even want Lavender Brown, and that was before we first slept together."

"Then why? Why did you…" She trailed off, unable to finish the question.

"Because," Ron hid his face in her shoulder with shame. "I was mad at you for kissing Viktor Krum." He admitted.

"Viktor Krum?" Hermione asked with surprise. "But Ron, I only ever kissed him once. Well actually, he kissed me if we're being honest, and I never let him do it again. And besides, that was in fourth year, well before anything happened between us."

"Yes well," Ron's face flushed with embarrassment, "I've never been able to think straight where you and him are concerned. Ginny said you'd snogged him and I was so angry and hurt that I wanted to hurt you back."

"So you kissed Lavender Brown where you knew I would see you?" She nodded her head slowly with comprehension.

Ron nodded sadly. "I'm sorry. It was immature and cruel and…"

"In the past." Hermione lovingly cupped his face. "It doesn't matter anymore. It really doesn't. But, if we're going to be completely honest with each other, which I think we should be, then I feel I have to tell you that you're the reason why I didn't see anyone over the past five years."

"Except Parker."

"I knew you were going to say that." She mumbled. "Ron, nothing happened between Parker and me. We're just friends."

"That's not what it looked like to me."

"No?"

"I saw the way you let him touch you. He was always resting his hand on your back, or playing with your hair, holding your hand."

"Ron," Hermione struggled to keep the mirth out of her voice, knowing that he was truly bothered by Parker's antics and one wrong word here could damage the fragile state of their relationship. "You know Parker better than anyone. He's a flirt. One of the very worst I've encountered. None of it meant anything."

"You wouldn't have been the first woman to fall for his charm and good looks."

"But I didn't fall for Parker's charm and good looks. I fell for yours. Ron," she persisted when he looked unconvinced. "If I had fallen for Parker Gale, do you think I would be here, naked, in your arms, like I am, right now?"

"No." he admitted grudgingly.

"No." She confirmed. "Not that I won't have to talk to him about this. I was technically on a date with him last night when you kidnapped me."

"Kidnapped?"

"What else would you call stealing me away like that? You should have seen the look in your eyes before you apparated." She shuddered at the memory. "I was half convinced you were going to throttle me. I'm surprised Parker or Harry didn't come barging in here to rescue me."

"They couldn't have done."

"Sorry?"

"I said, they couldn't have done. I put up wards last night to ensure Parker or anyone else couldn't come in and rescue you before we'd hatched it all out."

"You did not." She said disbelievingly.

Ron shrugged. "I'm actually more adept at wards then even Parker is aware of. Not that I needed to worry about that last night. I already have a series of wards in place. All it took was activating them. There was no way he was getting close enough to disturb us."

"Oh my God." Hermione covered her face with her hands. "What must he be thinking right now? Ron, he probably thinks you've killed me and are busy disposing of my body. I should go." She strengthened her hold on the sheet covering her body. "He must be so worried."

Ron's arms tightened painfully around her waist when she made to get up. "You're not going over to Parker's tonight."

Hermione turned to argue but stopped when she saw the stiff set to his jaw. "Ron I have to speak with him. I have to explain that nothing is ever going to happen between him and me." Her lips quirked faintly at the corners, "I have to explain to him that I don't want a boyfriend because I already have one."

"Yeah?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Don't I?" She toyed with his hair.

"Bet your arse you do."

"Ron," Hermione laughed as she wound her arms around his neck. "Watch your language."

"Admit it, you like it when I swear." Hermione playfully pursed her lips to which Ron laughed. Moving quickly he took hold of her legs and turned her so that she was sitting on his thighs, one knee on either side of his hip so that they were looking at each other face to face. "Don't worry about Parker. I'll speak with him tomorrow."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I really think I should be the one."

"Hermione please. I'll talk to him. Parker's my mate. I should handle it." He ran his fingers tenderly through her hair. "Besides, I have something I need you to do for me tomorrow."

"And what is that?" She asked, her voice laced with annoyance.

"I need you to find a way to get my daughter back."

"Blake," Hermione gasped, her mind screaming back to the beginning of the conversation. "That's right. You said the Ministry took her. What can I do?"

"I don't know." Hermione could see the sorrow and fear return to his eyes. "I've never been in this situation before." She watched his throat work as he tried to swallow. "Hermione, what if I lose? What if they grant his petition?"

"We won't let that happen." She took a calming breath as she tried to reign in her own emotions. There was no need to make things worse by turning into a useless puddle when it was clear Ron needed her to be strong. "All right. I need you to start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened. I understand you are trying to adopt Blake. Who is contesting the adoption?"

"Malacar Amadeus."

"The Death Eater?" she couldn't hide her surprise.

Ron nodded. "He claims he's Blake's godfather."

"Oh." She said with dawning comprehension. "And so he claims he has guardianship over her."

Ron nodded again, his throat to tight to speak. "Hermione," he croaked, "she was almost mine."

"She was always yours."

"No, I mean I was going to sign the papers today. Yesterday. If Paxman had come a few minutes later he would have been too late. She would have been legally mine and they couldn't have taken her away. Not without a fight."

Hermione's heart constricted inside her chest. Breathing heavily she guided Ron's head to her shoulder and closed her eyes when she felt her skin dampen with his tears.

"They took her away from me Hermione. They snuck in and took her. They were just going to hand her over to his family, without looking into them. They were going to give her to a family of Death Eaters."

"Where is she now?" Hermione stroked his hair in an attempt to comfort him.

He shook his head against her neck. "I don't know. It took the combined efforts of me, Roland Greene, Winifred Edgecombe and Minister Shakelbolt to convince them that if they wouldn't give her back that neither of us should get to have her. They placed her with another family until after the hearing. They've assured me that she is safe, that no one will harm her where she is, but how can they know? I don't know who this family is. I don't know if I can trust them. This isn't just anyone were talking about, this is my little girl." Ron's arms reflexively tightened. "They don't know her like I do, Mione. She doesn't sleep well if she's not home. I'm the only one who knows how to put her to sleep."

"Shh," Hermione cooed, her fingers continuing to run quietly through his hair. She couldn't ever remember seeing Ron like this before. It was tearing painfully at her heart. She could feel his pain in the way his body trembled, and his utter heartbreak in the way he clung to her. Righteous fury burst to life inside her chest. How dare anyone take Blake away from him? No one in the world could possibly love that little girl more and take care of her better then Ron Weasley. Only a fool couldn't see that. And after all that he had sacrificed, all that he had done for the wizarding community over the years, this was how they were going to repay him?

"Don't work yourself up like this." She said, trying to get a hold off her own anger. "There's nothing we can do until morning. She'll be safe for one night." She said reassuringly. "And first thing tomorrow morning I'll start working on her case. Top priority. I swear, I'll help you get her back." She promised. "I'll do whatever it takes."

* * *

Ron walked slowly though the narrow alleyways that made up the Auror department. He didn't know if it was his mood or the atmosphere in general, but the Ministry seemed quieter today, more subdued. It wasn't his imagination. When he passed through the section of cubicles where his team was stationed he knew instantly something was wrong. It was too quiet. No one was laughing. No heads were peeking over walls to talk to neighbors. It was like someone had cast a silencing charm over the whole of the Ministry.

He came to a stop outside Parker's cubicle and was both surprised and relieved to find it empty. He had been dreading this conversation from the moment he promised Hermione he would have it. This was a position he never thought he would find himself in. He and Parker had never been interested in the same girl before, mostly because Parker was interested in almost every female he laid eyes on and Ron hadn't bothered to look at any. But never would he have imagined that he would find himself preparing to fight one of his best friends for Hermione Granger. _His_ Hermione Granger. What was worse, he didn't even know if he was in the wrong.

He didn't want to use terms of ownership, he knew Hermione would hate that he did, but he didn't know if he or Parker had claim to her. True he had known and wanted Hermione for far longer than his friend, but for the past five years he had given every indication to the world that he didn't want anything to do with her. Truth be told he felt Parker had a more valid claim to pursue her. He had made his intentions known for some time now. He had even done the proper thing and asked Ron if Hermione was his girl. If he was going to be honest with himself, Ron knew that in order to do the honorable thing as far as his friend was concerned, he would step aside and let Parker and Hermione get on with their relationship.

But there was no way in hell that was going to happen. Hermione was his now. Not only had he put his claim on her, she had put her claim on him. A small smile perked up his lips. In fact they had claimed each other more than once last night. Hermione was his and he was Hermione's in almost every way imaginable now. He knew the next step was asking her to marry him and then to have the ceremony as swiftly as possible, before something else could come along to tear them apart. But he knew he couldn't ask her yet. Not until this trouble with Blake was over. And not until they had had more time together to make sure that this was really what they both wanted.

There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her. That he had felt incomplete every day of the past five years without her. But he needed to make certain that he loved her, and not just the idea of her. He needed to be absolutely certain that they felt the same way for each other. Because when he got Blake back, and he would get her back, her life would be altered by his decision as well. And Blake's happiness came even before his own. As did Hermione's.

Even after last night Ron couldn't completely believe his good fortune. As much as Hermione professed to love him and want to be with him, and after all that they had shared last night, both physically and emotionally, he had a difficult time believing he could be so lucky. He couldn't make his heart and head truly grasp the idea that they were well and truly together now, or that they would stay that way. He half expected her to realize she didn't really want to be with him and pitch him, leaving him broken hearted and miserable once again.

Pushing the unhappy thoughts out of his mind, Ron turned away from Parker's cubicle to make his way toward his own office. If Parker wasn't here that meant he had a little more time to figure out how exactly to broach the subject with him. He needed to find the right way to ask Parker his forgiveness for steeling Hermione away while at the same time telling him to keep his bloody hands to himself. His relationship with Hermione was just too fresh, too new. He didn't want to hack her off straight away for pummeling Parker. He knew his friend was naturally flirtatious and liked to express that flirtation through innocent touch. But he also knew he was a jealous man, especially where Hermione was concerned. He didn't want to have to beat the tar out of one of his best mates for doing what came natural to him. But if Ron saw him take the same liberties with Hermione that he had before, there wasn't a force on earth that would stop him from breaking his mates arm.

"Captain Weasley." Ron turned around to find Gavin Banning, one of the members of his squad, standing uneasily in front of him. "If you're looking for Parker, he's waiting in your office."

"Oh," The relief he felt over having more time to gather his thoughts evaporated instantly with the news. "Thank you."

"Captain," Banning said again when Ron made to turn away. "I feel I should warn you, he didn't look very happy when I saw him. He was really short with Fern when she didn't know where you were and he almost brought her to tears."

"Thank you for telling me, Gavin. I'll take care of this."

Ron squared his shoulders as he turned. Forcing his chin a notch higher, he kept his expression neutral as he made his way toward his office. He could feel eyes following him as he went and knew the moment he closed his office door his team would erupt into rumors and speculation as to what had caused the disagreement between the two of them this time. He hated that he and Parker had gotten into more disagreements over the course of the past few months then they had over all the rest of their time working together. It galled him further to admit that he was to blame for nearly every single one of them.

When he reached his office he found Fern's chair empty and the door to his office closed. For a moment he debated whether to turn around and seek out Roland Greene or Winnie Edgecombe and see if they had come up with any new ideas on how to help him get Blake back before heading to Hermione's office, if for no other reason than to make sure last night hadn't been a dream, but quickly decided against it. What was he so afraid of? Parker was his mate, one of his best friends. There shouldn't be any reason to fear him. Hell, he realized with a swell of disgust, he had been through a lot worse than this. He had faced down a group of ten Death Eaters on his own and not so much as hesitated. So why was he still standing on the outside of his own office door like a scared school boy sent to see the Headmaster?

Taking a deep breath Ron seized the handle and swung the door open. He took a confident step into the room and was laid out flat by a fist connecting with his jaw.


	16. Held Accountable

I am going to start out this message by apologizing profusely for not updating sooner. I had an influx of school work and just no time to do what I love, which unfortunately means you all had to suffer, maybe, along with me. The end of term is coming soon and because of that I decided it would be best to post this chapter now, without reading through it another four or five times, and hope that my spelling and grammar are not so horrendous that you all decide to delete me and my story from your update list. As it is, I had fun writing this chapter, when I found the time to work on it, and I sencearily hope that you enjoy reading it as well. I really hope that it was worth the wait. Let me know what you think and I look forward to hearing from. Oh, and if, in the off chance, Abe Lincoln Equals Scotland is reading this, I really enjoyed reading your review and wish I could have responded to you directly. The same to everyone else who leaves reviews I can't respond to. I wish you would. I love talking back and forth between you guys. Anyway, I've blathered on enough. I hope you enjoy this, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Held Accountable

"Bloody Hell." Ron grunted as he landed painfully on his back. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Take a wild guess." Parker snarled using his foot to shove Ron back to the floor when he made to get up. "Stay down." He warned as he withdrew his wand with the speed and agility honed from years of training. "By Merlin, if you hurt her…"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Is that what this is about?"

"Of course it is, you bloody tosser."He jabbed his wand at Ron. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing to get this riled over."

"I'll decide what's worth getting riled over." Parker's voice was laced with menace, warning Ron to take care if he didn't want to be hit again. "Hermione wasn't in her office this morning."

"There's a perfectly…"

"She's never late for work."

"Relax, Parker. Bloody hell, she wanted a wash and fresh clothes."

"And why would she need that? What time did she leave your house this morning?"

"How did you know…"

"I'm asking the questions." Parker gripped his wand tighter and sparks leapt from the end to singe the tip of Ron's nose.

"Would you get that out of my face?" Ron knocked the wand with the back of his hand, his anger mounting.

Parker brought it instantly back around. "Not until I get some answers from you."

Ron's chin stiffened with ire as his second continued to stare down at him with murder in his eyes. "Parker Gale," he snapped, assuming as much authority as a man held at wand point of the floor could assume. "Stand down." Though Ron's voice was laced with warning Parker continued to glare mutinously at him for several seconds. Ron's eyes narrowed. "Now." He said with deadly finality.

Parker dropped his wand hand after a moment more of defiance and stepped back.

Ron sat up, his narrowed eyes never leaving Parker's incensed ones. When he regained his feet he batted at his robes in an attempt to put them back into place. "Would you mind telling me why you thought it was a good idea to wallop me this early in the morning?"

Parker squared his shoulders as he pocketed his wand. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention. "I'm not sure which offense to begin with, Sir."

Ron quirked a brow at Parker. "Sir? That does sound serious." He cast a quick healing charm against his jaw. He was almost certain it would still bruise by mourning, but at least the pain was gone. "Several offences you say? Well, best to have them all out then. Maybe then I'll understand why you felt the need to attack your commanding officer."

"I didn't feel I had any other option, Sir."

"You don't think perhaps you could have come and had a civilized conversation with me?"

"I tried that, Sir." His eyes blazed with fury when the landed on Ron for a brief moment. "Last night. You warded your house."

"I wasn't in the mood to talk last night."

"Which you made abundantly clear when you abducted Hermione."

Ron stiffened at the meaning behind Parker's words became clear. "You thought I was going to hurt her." It wasn't a question.

"The thought crossed my mind."

"How dare… How could you... I would _never_ hurt her."

"Really?" Parker asked pointedly. "I saw her flinch several times over the course of your argument."

Ron's eyes darkened to an intense blue. "I would never hit her."

"You looked like you would last night." Parker snapped back. "And I wasn't the only one who thought so." He glanced briefly at Ron before returning his focus to the wall in front of him. "Nearly all your brothers and your brother-in-law joined me to try and come to her assistances. You were very angry last night. No one knew what you were capable of."

"I wouldn't have hurt her." Ron said again.

"How were we to know that?"Parker asked. "Three hours we spent trying to break through your wards."

"Well that was a bloody waste of time, wasn't it. You and Harry both know there was no way to get through."

"Which is the only reason I eventually sent your brothers home to their wives."

"But you didn't leave?" Ron asked perceptively.

"No." Parker stiffened his jaw. "I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until you let her go."

"You watched my house all night?" Ron asked with exasperation. "You stubborn arse. Might I ask why you didn't come charging in once I lowered the wards?"

"Because," Parker snarled, "I fell asleep. By the time I woke up you were both gone."

Turning abruptly, Ron walked to his desk more out of his sudden need to hide his amused smirk then to sit. He couldn't remain angry with Parker knowing that Parker had been standing outside his house all night fuming while he and Hermione had been comfortably inside having all sorts of…fun. No wonder he had right hooked him.

"Then I guess I would have to say it's a dammed good thing I did ward the house." Ron said as he took his seat and sent the chair spinning around so that he was facing forward. "I think Hermione would have disliked being interrupted as much as I would have."

Parker's eyes flashed with anger. "This is not a laughing matter."

"You're right," Ron agreed, folding his hands and resuming his position of authority. "It's not. You're actions this morning have been less then fitting for someone of your position. I don't think I like the fact that my second in command, my partner and friend, trusts me so little. I also do not appreciate that a member of my own squad, an Alpha no less, attacked a commanding officer." Ron watched a dull flush spread over Parker's expressionless face. "What if someone had seen you? You would have brought disgrace not only on yourself, but on me and the entire Alpha Squad. As it is you're lucky I don't take disciplinary action against you."

"I assure you," Parker said through clenched teeth, "that disgracing you or the squad was not my intention."

"I'm sure it wasn't. Parker, use your common sense. You have the entire squad talking about you. What exactly did you say to Fern?"

"I'm afraid I was a little short with her when she didn't know where you were."

"You'll apologize to her. Whatever disagreement you have with me, you leave the rest of the squad out of it. And that includes Fern."

"Yes, Sir."

Ron sat there a moment and continued to look at him. "You're still angry with me."

Parker turned and looked him directly in the eye. "That depends."

"On?"

"I'll ask you again, and this time be honest. Is Hermione your girl?"

Ron silently stared at Parker for several minutes trying to decipher the best way to answer his question. When he could glen nothing from the man's stony expression, he sighed heavily. "Yes. She is."

The air hung heavy with tension as Ron waited for Parker to respond. The seconds seemed to tick by agonizingly slow as the other man continued to stare at him, not a twitch of a muscle giving away his thoughts. "And about damn time to."

Ron's head snapped up as Parker strode happily to one of the vacant chairs set in front of his desk and plopped down comfortably. "Took you bloody well long enough. I mean honestly man, how think could you get?"

Ron blinked several time in shock. "W-what?"

"I said, it took you bloody well long enough. It's a good thing you wised up when you did too. I was this close," he held up his hand to show a small gap between his thumb and forefinger, "to abandoning my plane and pursuing her for real. Damn it, Ron, how could you let a girl like that get away? She's bloody perfect."

Ron's mouth hung open uselessly for several minutes as his mind tried to catch up to the sudden shift in his reality. "This was a set up?"

Parker laughed as he bracketed his fingers behind his head. "Don't look at it that way." His face was all smiles as he leaned back in his seat and crossed one ankle over the other on the edge of Ron's desk. "Look at it more as steering a friend in the right direction."

Ron's mouth gapped several times trying to form a proper sentence. "I can't believe you did that." He finally managed. "I've been on the verge of murdering you for…"

"And don't think I don't appreciate the peril I put myself in. Last night I thought I was a dead man."

Ron's fingers cracked as he gripped the together. "You still might be. I should kill you for toying with Hermione's affections like that. If you never planned on really pursuing her you should have left her alone."

Parker's grin grew painfully wide. "Look at big tough Ron Weasley becoming all protective over a girl again. I've heard stories you use to be that way."

"Parker, don't you have a conscience? What if she had fallen for you?"

Parker waved away his concern with the flip of a hand. "Not a chance."

"She could have. I've seen it happen before."

"Ron," Parker said evenly, "Hermione was never at any risk of falling for me."

"You can't know that."

"Yes I can. Bloody hell, man. She was too far gone on you to ever be interested in me. Besides, I spent most of my time with her trying to convince her that you weren't a complete tosser. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you? You drove me mad with jealousy for months."

"Of course I did. That was the whole brilliance of my plan."

Ron gapped at him stupidly. "Sometimes I have no idea what's going through your head. What were you thinking? You almost destroyed our friendship."

Parker used the back of his hand to cover a theatrical yawn. "With a loyal bugger like you as my mate that was never a risk. I was counting on your…_hatred_…of her to outweigh your anger with me."

"That could have completely blown up in your face."

Parker shrugged dismissively. "It was a risk I was willing to take."

"Why?"

"Because," Ron was surprised to see the humor was suddenly gone from his friend's eyes. "I couldn't stand seeing you so miserable anymore."

"I wasn't miserable."

"Ron, you were so miserable I don't think you even knew how to be happy." Parker pulled his heals off the desk so that he could sit up and look at Ron directly. "You've been a work obsessed hermit since I officially met you. All your friends from school say you have a wicked sense of humor, but when have I ever seen it? Witches have been throwing themselves at you for years and you never noticed. Not to mention how rarely you genuinely smile. And even though you never said anything I knew Hermione was the key to all of this."

Ron chuckled mirthlessly. "How could you know that?"

"It doesn't take someone of Hermione's intelligence to put the pieces together. Remember, us mere Ravenclaws are meant to be smart. I remember what you were like at school. You weren't like this. You and Harry were always laughing about something. And when you weren't fighting with Hermione the three of you were inseparable."

"What has that to do with anything?"

"Ron, we've not only been partners but friends for over five years now. Did you really think I wouldn't notice that you never talked about her? _Five years_ and I can't recall you mentioning her once. Whenever you talked about your time at Hogwarts and the adventures you had there, you made it sound like it was only you and Harry who went on them. You cut Hermione out of the stories you could and didn't tell the ones where you couldn't. I might have been a year ahead of you at Hogwarts, but I wasn't oblivious. I heard the rumors just like everyone else. I know how close you were to both of them."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"How could I? When you first joined up I didn't know you well enough and by the time I did I felt like too much time had passed. I knew someone had hurt you very badly and it didn't take me long to guess at who it was, but still… You acted like nothing had ever happened. And what's worse, I had to watch as that pain you carried with you turned into hatred and there was nothing I could do about it. That was a part of your life you never bothered to share with me."

"So what persuaded you to try and fix it?"

"Honestly?" Ron nodded. "The look in your eyes that first morning you ran into Hermione again. For one moment you let your guard down and I knew how happy the thought of seeing her again made you."

Ron ducked his head as his ears turned bright red. "You're making me sound like a Nancy."

Parker shook his head as he laughed. "Ron, that's probably the one thing no one will ever accuse you of being. Besides, I'm just telling you what I saw. For a brief moment before you turned around I saw how happy you were. Then how sad. And then you put up that damnable unemotional mask you always wear. I knew then that everything I suspected about you was true. And that's when I decided to take it upon myself to get you two back together."

"And you thought flirting with her was the best way to do it?"

Parker nodded his head. "I was up all night thinking about you circumstances and spent nearly all the next day talking with your old school mates. I came to the conclusion that you decided a long time ago to cut her out of your life. From what I had gathered over the years you made it a point not to be around when she came home for a visit. And that day in the Ministry you didn't even acknowledge her presences. Not a hello. Not a curt nod. Nothing. I came to the conclusion that if it were left to you you would continue to ignore her very existences for the rest of your life, and I couldn't have that. I knew I needed to make you pay attention. I needed to make certain that you were always aware of her. That her image was always nagging the back of that thick brain of yours. I couldn't very well say, 'Look at her Ron. Look how beautiful she is. Do you remember how much you once cared for her? How protective you use to be?' And then I remembered the belching slug incident and I was almost certain my plan would work."

"You heard about that?"

Parker chuckled softly at the dismay on his captain's face. "Everybody heard of that. The Slytherine team made sure of it."

Ron groaned as he dropped his head into his hands. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Why would you want to?" Ron looked up, his eyes wide with surprise. "Your friends told me what really happened that day. What Draco Malfoy said to Hermione. Why would you be ashamed you stood up for her?"

"I'm not."

"Then what?"

Ron's skin turned bright red at the memory of his humiliation. "I'm ashamed that I wasn't able to defender her the way I should. I failed her and made a fool of myself in the process."

"I'm sure you would have done an admirable job if your wand hadn't been broken."

Ron shook his head with disbelief. "How is it that you know so much about me?"

Parker smiled sheepishly as he shrugged. "I like to do my research. Besides it was through my research with your friends that I learned what a hot head you were in your youth, which of course I remembered. But what I wasn't aware of was that the fastest way to set you off was to make you jealous. Nearly everyone I talked to mentioned how riled you use to get over Viktor Krum and Cormac McLaggen."

"Stupid gits." Ron muttered under his breath.

"Precisely my point. I deduced, rather easily, that you get insanely jealous when anyone so much as shows any interest in Hermione. Hence, my plan. Spend as much time blatantly flirting with her right in front of you until that jealous streak came out again. I knew I got it right by the way you reacted that day you came across me in her office." Parker laughed softly. "You were infuriated."

"You say that like it's a good thing."

"Well, in this case it was. You dwell when you're angry."

"I do not." Ron denied heatedly.

"Right." Parker said knowingly. "You just let everything roll right off your back. Not one to hold a grudge, are you?" Ron who had been about to speak snapped his mouth shut. "Like I said, I needed to keep you constantly thinking about her. If that meant that I needed to make you perpetually annoyed, then so be it. Besides it worked out in the end."

Ron shook his head with incredulity. "I can't believe you deliberately put me through that kind of hell."

"And what about you? Have you any idea what I went through last night? By Merlin, I thought the whole plan had backfired and Hermione got caught in the backlash. You're a real tosspot for activating the wards like that."

Ron shook his head with disbelief. "I still can't believe you stood outside and watched my house all night."

"You're an emotional man, Ron. I've watched you try to suppress that side of yourself for years and last night it came back with a vengeance. I've _never_seen you have to struggle so hard to maintain control. I didn't know if you were going to be able to hold back five years worth of anger and frustration. In the off chance that you couldn't, I needed to be there in case she needed… I guess in case she needed me."

"Parker, I swear to you, I would never hurt her. I thought you knew that."

"I did. I mean, I do. It's just my anxiety overruled my judgment. Come on Ron," he said when his friend still looked disgruntle. "Do you think someone who was in their right mind would have stood outside all night waiting for a light to turn on so he could make sure that the two people inside were still alive?"

Ron huffed out a breath of air as he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. He felt the urge to laugh come over him like before but now that most of the tension between him and Parker was resolved he was finding it much more difficult to suppress.

"What's so funny?"

Ron shook his head.

"Tell me."

Ron took a breath in an attempt to compose himself before returning his focus to Parker. "I was just thinking it's a damn good thing we didn't turn the lights on. If you had been standing anywhere near the study you would have gotten quite a show."

Parker leaned forward and rested one arm on the desk as he stared at Ron, taking in the almost smug quirk to his lips. "You didn't."

Ron tried but couldn't stop a smile from slipping on is lips. "A wizard doesn't kiss and tell."

"You did. You slept with Hermione."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why are you so surprised? We're all adults."

"But you… All those nasty things you said to her…I stayed up all night terrified that I had buggered it for the both of you and you were inside happily shagging her?"

Ron tapped pointedly at his jaw before rubbing it gently. "Let's call ourselves even."

"Oh no, we're not even close to even, mate. You still have to account for the way you treated her."

"I didn't realize my actions were held accountable to you."

"They are where she's concerned."

"Really?" Ron's brow arched.

Look, I've spent a great deal of time with Hermione over the past few months. I would be lying if I didn't say I was half in love with her already. She's an amazing girl and a wonderful friend. Don't do anything to hurt her."

Ron took several deep breaths as he tried to ease the band tightening around his heart. Parker in love with Hermione? The idea terrified him. Images of Parker touching Hermione's beautiful hair or resting his hand on the small of her back barreled through his brain. His shoulders tensed as his possessiveness come roaring to life with a vengeance.

"You needn't worry yourself." He said coldly. "I have no intention of ever hurting Hermione again. And as far as your _infatuation_ with her goes, it better end now because I have no intention of ever letting her go." And as soon as he said the words he knew he meant them. If she let him, Ron knew he would spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to love her, protect her and make her happy.

"Good." Parker nodded. "I'm thrilled to hear it."

"Right," Ron nodded, forcing his mind to return to the issue at hand. "Which is why I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you to stay away from her."

"What?" Parker laughed, the sound dying on his lips when Ron remained still. He sat forward, his face a mask of disbelief. "You're pulling my leg."

"Sorry, mate." Ron shook his head. "Hermione always gets hacked off when I play the jealous git and until you learn to keep your hands to yourself I can't promise I won't pummel you. Can't tell you how many times I had to stop myself from coming after you already. So, in order to save your hide and my ear, I suggest you give us space."

Parker's mouth gapped a few times as he tried to find something appropriate to say. "What if I promise not to flirt with her?"

Ron's brow arched higher.

"Harry lets me flirt with Ginny." Parker pointed out.

"Harry isn't nearly as possessive as I am. Besides, Harry knows Ginny's been in love with him since she was ten."

"This is ridiculous." Parker threw up his hands in exasperation. "We all three work here at the Ministry together, I'm bound to bump into her. Besides, after all the effort I went through to bring you two together I expect a front row invitation to the wedding."

"It might be a bit early to be talking about weddings, don't you think?" Ron's focus snapped over Parker's shoulders and his eyes lit up. Parker whirled around in his seat to find Hermione standing in the doorway, leaning against the post with her arms crossed over her chest and an amused smile on her lips. "After all," her eyes never left Ron's, "we've only been together since last night."

"Yes, but my resources say you've been in love with him for much longer."

Hermione tore her eyes away from Ron to focus on Parker. "And here I thought I'd find you two in combat over my hand." She said teasingly.

"Battles already been waged, love."

Hermione's eyes widened with disbelief, then concern when she saw the first trace of a bruise forming on Ron's jaw. "And who won?" She asked as she dropped her bag on the floor just inside the door and moved inside to closer inspect Ron's jaw.

"I did, of course." Ron said, his eyes sliding closed as her fingers touched his face gently, turning up his chin so she could better see. "Did you even doubt it?"

Hermione smiled softly as she pressed a kiss to the contusion. "Not for a moment." She whispered. Withdrawing her wand from her pocket, she cast another healing charm against Ron's jaw and watched with satisfaction as the angered skin returned to normal. "Honestly, didn't they teach you healing charms in training?"

"I'm out of practice." Ron said smugly. "I don't usually get hit."

Parker snorted from his seat. "Except this morning when I laid him flat."

Hermione whirled on the other man, hands planted on her hips and her eyes narrowing. "And who," her voice warned him not to lie, "resorted to fists first? Was it you?"

Parker shrugged noncommittally. "It might have been."

Hermione shook her head with displeasure. "Parker Gale, I expected better of you."

"I thought I showed an admirable amount of restraint." Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a male thing, love. You wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't I? I've been best friends with Harry and Ron for half my life. I've had to deal with his," his jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at Ron, "immaturity. Why don't you try me."

"Well you see," he said in his best imitation of a lecturer, "When one bloke steels another bloke's girl from him…"

"Oh please…" Hermione huffed. "You don't seem to be taking it very hard."

"Hermione love," he said sadly, "If you could see my heart you would see it's torn in two."

She glanced to where his hand was clutching his chest over his heart and back to his eyes. "I'm sure it will mend with the next pretty face. By the way, I seem to have forgotten myself so I probably shouldn't say anything, but…private conversations have a higher rate of staying such if they're done behind closed doors." She flicked her wand toward the open door and it closed neatly with a snap.

"Brilliant this one, isn't she?" Hermione turned to find Ron holding his hand out to her beseechingly. Biting her lip to hide her pleasure she slipped her fingers between his. "Absolutly brilliant." He said as he gave her hand a tug and pulled her into his lap, tilting her chin up so that he could reach her lips when he bent his head.

"Enough of that." Hermione said turning her face and breaking the kiss when she heard Parker cough discreetly behind them. "Ron," she grabbed onto his robes and threatened him playfully, "I did not just hear you tell Parker to avoid me again, did I?"

"You did." Parker said helpfully as Hermione turned in Ron's arms to face him. "The selfish bastard has every intention of keeping you all to himself."

"How much of that did you hear?" Ron asked as he nuzzled playfully at Hermione's neck.

"Enough to discern what Parker's ulterior motive was." She turned her warm brown eyes on the other man. "You have a lot to learn about the proper way to woo a girl."

After a moment of stunned silence Ron threw back his head and laughed, filling the room with his strong guffaws "Did you hear that Parker?" He slapped the surface of the desk in his amusement. "You need to learn the proper way to woo a girl."

"I thought I did a fantastic job." He said with a pout. "I accomplished exactly what I wanted to."

"Precisely."Hermione said knowingly. "I never really believed you were trying to court me. You spent way too much time trying to convince me how wonderful Ron was."

"Did it work?" Parker watched as Ron wound one of her longer curls around his finger in an attempt to make it seem like her answer wouldn't affect him. But he couldn't hide the anxious way his eyes repeatedly darted to her face then away, almost as if he was afraid to be caught staring at her.

Hermione smiled tenderly as she turned to look at Ron. She lifted her free hand and ran her fingers through his hair. "Not really. I always knew how wonderful he was."

"You could have fooled me."Parker snorted.

"Well," Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I might have needed a bit of reminding."

"That's alright, love." Ron gently coaxed her chin back around with his fingers so he could kiss her. "I needed a bit of reminding myself."

Parker smiled with satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up once again. He always enjoyed the fruits of a job well done. "Would you look at the two of you?" The pair broke apart to look around at the man they had momentarily forgotten was still in the room. "Molly's going to be thrilled when you tell her. She's been pushing Ron to settle down since I've known her. I don't think she could have asked for anyone better for her little Ronnikins."

Ron groaned as he tucked his face into Hermione's shoulder hiding the bright red that was staining his cheeks and ears.

"Actually," Hermione said tentatively, playing with the hair fanning the back of Ron's neck. "That's one of the things I came here to talk to you about." Ron pulled back uneasily so that he could look up into her eyes. "I think for the time being it would be better if the three of us were the only ones who knew about this."

"What?" Ron's hand reflexively tightened around her fingers.

"Just until the custody hearing is over." She said quickly, hoping to stop his destructive self-doubt before it had a chance to rear its ugly head. "Then we can tell everyone, but…"

"Why?" He cut her off. "I don't understand."

"Ron," she gripped his head tight, forcing him to look at her. "I thought you would understand. We have a case to win. It's going to be difficult enough as it is. We don't want to impeach our character by involving ourselves in a scandal."

"What scandal?"

"Ron," Hermione cupped his face tenderly, "How do you think it would look to the judge if he found out you were shagging your legal counsel?"

"Ms Granger," Parker gasped, sounding perfectly scandalized. "Such language."

"Parker," she rounded on him. "Toss off. You're not helping."

For a moment the two men stared at her in shocked disbelief. "Did she just say what I think she said?" Ron asked.

Parker nodded dumbly. "I think so."

The two men glanced at each other and the evident shock on both of their faces shattered their restraint. Hermione scowled angrily as Ron and Parker howled with laughter, the vast range of emotions they had already been through making the situation funnier then it merited. "Bloody hell," Ron said through his laughter, "I don't think I've ever heard her say that before."

"Oh please," Hermione crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. "It's not that bad. All I said was toss off." The two words coming out of Hermione's prim mouth seemed to be too much for the tall redhead. He threw his head back and the room echoed with the happy sound. Parker's own laugh faltered and died with the sad realization that he had never heard Ron laugh with such abandonment ever before. It was as if when Hermione left five years ago something had died inside of him and it was only now starting to come to life again. He was suddenly faced with a whole new dimension of his friend and found himself quite eager to know him.

Smiling happily with contentment, Parker watched as his best mate hugged Hermione tight to his body before tilting her face up for another hungry kiss. "Gods, I love you." He heard him murmur, holding her face close to his.

Parker crossed his arms smugly over his chest. "Are you sure you'll be able to keep your relationship a secret?"

"I don't see why not." Hermione beamed, not bothering to look away from Ron long enough to address him directly.

"Oh no? You look like you're ready to devour each other."

Hermione blushed prettily but still managed to throw him an impish smile. "Maybe that's because I am."

Parker roared with laughter as he once again pulled his feet from Ron's desk, readying himself to leave. "You better let Harry in on your little secret if you haven't already. He'll want to know why you're spending every night at Ron's house."

"I hadn't…we never…" Her eyes grew suddenly wide. "Ronald Bilius Weasley." She rounded on the tall redhead. "You told him?"

"He guessed." Ron said defending himself.

"And you couldn't have lied?"

"What for? He would have figured it out eventually."

"That's not the point!" She snapped. "Last night was…"

"Special." He cut in, stopping her before she could get herself really riled up. Taking a risk he reached up and cupped her face tenderly between his hands. "Wonderful." He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. "The most amazing night of my entire life."

"Yes." She said begrudgingly. "Something like that."

"Hermione," he ran his fingers through her hair. "I love you."

She pouted a moment more before leaning forward and pecking him on the lips. "That's not going to work for ever, Wealsey." She warned. "Eventually you're going to have to learn to not be such a pratt."

Ron smiled as he kissed her again. "Just so long as I'm your pratt."

"Och, enough." Parker pushed to his feet. "You two are sickenly sweet and I can't stomach it. Let me know when this honeymoon stage is over and then maybe we can be friends again."

"Parker," Hermione called after him when he turned to leave. "Please don't go. I actually did come in here for a reason." He turned back around to see that Hermione had extracted herself from Ron's arms and was now standing beside his desk, smoothing her robes fretfully as Ron tried to hide his disappointment. "I wanted to talk to you both about Blake's case."

Parker saw the happy glow Ron had protectively surrounded himself with evaporate. His shoulders hunched forward as he leaned his elbows on his desk, pressing his lips to his raised, clasped hands. He stared at the knuckles in front of his nose and closed his eyes a moment as he tried to swallow. Parker watched as Ron internally berated himself. He knew Ron was tormenting himself with guilt for letting himself be even momentarily happy when Blake's future was so uncertain. He felt his heart sink from his chest to his stomach. For the first time since Blake had arrived in Ron's life, Parker finally understood how much his friend loved his little girl. Being separated from her now was eating him up inside, the pain of it evident on his face. Parker knew without a doubt that if Ron lost custody it would devastate him, maybe even more then losing Hermione once had.

"Yes of course," he nodded, turning back around and taking his seat. "I'll do whatever I can."

Hermione smiled thankfully as she took the other empty seat. "Alright," she summoned her bag from where she had left it near the door. From inside she pulled out a yellow legal pad and a pen. "Now, I want you both to tell me everything that's happened since you first started investigating the Blythes. Don't leave anything out. You never know what bit of information might prove beneficial. Also, I'll need you to get me a copy of all the Ministry's files surrounding the case. I'll need Blake's, the two Blythes's, Amadeus's, and anyone else who might remotely be connected to the Blythes. Anyone they might have helped flee the country or even suspected of having been in contact with. And most definitely get me the files on Amadeus's family, especially the sister and brother-in-law." Hermione sighed sadly as she started writing notes for herself at the top of the bright yellow paper. "So," she said looking up, "Wha-" She stopped when she saw the devastation haunting Ron's eyes. Her own heart constricting, she reached across the desk and placed her hand gently on his. "We'll get her back, Ron. I promise." He nodded once but could not hide his fear from her. Her fingers squeezed his reassuringly, her eyes firming with resolve. "You leave everything to me."


	17. Falling Apart

Hello Everyone, I just wanted to take this chance and apologize to all of you who I haven't been able to reach yet. As I'm sure you are all aware it has been an insanely long time since I last updated. The only excuse I have is that I was insanely busy and then I was traveling. The last time I posted was right before the end of term at which time I was working like a mad woman trying to get all my work in before I left for Easter Holidays at which point I was traveling with one of my best friends. We were jumping around quiet a bit and most of the places that we stayed didn't have computers let alone internet access and if they did have it it was so expensive that I couldn't afford to use it. But I won't bore you with money problems. Okay, so here is the next chapter. I hope you all like it and I will try my very best to get the next chapter posted as soon as possible. I feel I must warn you though, seeing as I am to return home in four weeks I have a lot of school work that I am going to have to finish sooner then I expected because my teachers want to be able to return my work to me before I leave. So I guess there you have it. I'll try my best but I can't make any promises. I hope you all is going well for you. It's honestly been far too long. Well, Happy Reading, Noterwomann

&

Chapter Seventeen: Falling Apart

She knew she was alone even before she was fully awake. She felt dwarfed, completely alone in Ron's massive bed. Hermione rolled over so that she faced Ron's side of the bed. Heart heavy, she reached out and let her fingers trace the dent in his pillow. It was cold. She closed her eyes as the first hint of tears gathered behind her lids. Her fingers curled around the soft fabric and pulled it to her body. She hid her face in the pillow's softness and tried to block out the terrible thoughts that plagued her in her waking hours.

Lifting her head so she could see over the sill of his bedroom window she saw the moon was still hanging high in the sky. He couldn't have had more than a few hours of sleep. Lifting the covers she swung her legs over the side of the bed, groped around the floor for Ron's shirt, slid her hands into the sleeves and buttoned it before rising to her feet. Pulling her long hair out of the collar she strode to the door. Her steps were strong and purposeful. It didn't of course take a genius to deduce where he had gone. It was the same place he went every night when he woke.

Hermione slowly eased open the door to Blake's room. Ron sat on the floor in the corner closest to the door, knees raised, head leaning back against the wall, a warn photograph clutched in his hand. Hermione threw a wistful glance to the rocker sitting in the corner. If he insisted on keeping vigil in Blake's room the least he could do was make himself comfortable. But she knew he wouldn't. She had made the mistake of asking him the first night she woke to find him missing why he sat on the floor when there was a more comfortable chair in the room. He had stared at her blankly for a moment before looking away. "Not without Blake." He said stiffly, putting a firm end to her questioning.

She realized now she should have seen the change coming. The arrival of Blake's rocking chair had been the catalyst of his mood change. She had been with him, downstairs, researching when they detected a disturbance in the wards. She had later learned that Ron had ordered the rocking chair the same day he had purchased Blake's cot, but the nursery store had been out of ready stock. As fate would have it the chair would arrive just two days after the Ministry had taken custody of her.

Hermione could still picture the cold mask of horror that had flashed momentarily across Ron's face at the sight of the chair. After several moments of uncertainty when Hermione didn't know how he was going to respond, Ron stiffened his chin in resolve, carried the chair up the stairs, placed it in the corner and firmly closed the door. That had been the beginning. The start of Ron's decline. Little by little every day she watched as Ron retreated, pulling further and further away from her and escaping into himself, helpless to do anything but watch.

"Ron?" She said tentatively, stepping into the room. "Ron," she extended her hand, "Come back to bed."

For a moment she thought either he had hadn't heard her or that he was going to ignore her. He had given no indication he was aware of her presences until she heard him murmur. "I'm not tired."

Hermione frowned down at him. Even without the aid of light she could see the bags under his eyes that suggested otherwise. "Ron," she crouched down so she was closer to his level. "You won't do her any good if you work yourself into an early grave."

Ron turned his head slowly to stare at her. "Go back to sleep. I'll join you in a while."

Hermione's frown deepened. He said that every night when she came to fetch him, but he never came. "No." She said after a few minutes of silently staring at him. "I'm afraid that's not going to work for me." She lowered herself onto the floor next to him. "You see, I'm afraid I've grown quite selfish. I can't sleep without you in bed beside me. Ron," she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Ron, please."

Seeing the heavy glisten in her eyes Ron reached up and cupped her cheek tenderly. "I'm sorry Mione." He looked away from her as he let his hand drop. "I just…" he swallowed past a large lump in his throat. "Merlin I miss her." He closed his eyes as he let his head fall painfully against the wall. "Maybe," she watched his throat work to swallow past his Adam's apple. "Maybe it would be best if you went back to Harry and Ginny's." He diverted his eyes so he wouldn't be forced to look at her.

Hermione's heart tightened painfully in her chest. She sat back on her heals. "Do…do you want me to go back to Harry and Ginny's?"

Eyes flying open at the anguish he heard in her voice Ron turned his own wet eyes on hers. "No," He extended his hand, waiting until she took it before pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms almost painfully around her. "No. I swear. That's the last thing I want."

"Then why?"

His long fingers ran lovingly through the dark strands of her hair. "Hermione," His mouth worked for several minutes unable to find the right words. "I'm no good for you like this, Mione."

"What nonsense." She forced herself to say.

"It isn't. Hermione," he turned his face away shamefully. "I want to give you and…and…and us my all." He shook his head defeated, "But I can't stop thinking about her. I can't stop worrying that something happened. I haven't even been allowed to see her. Who knows what kind of…of family they put her with. What if they're hurting her, Mione? What if…"

"Stop it." She said fiercely, clasping his face between her hands and forcing him to look at her. "She's fine."

"Have you seen her?"

"No, you know I haven't."

"Then how do you know? You can't know. They could have put her with a family worse than the Amadeuss"

"Stop it!" Hermione bit down painfully on her lip to keep from shouting at him. She lowered her eyes as she took a harsh breath. "Just stop it, Ron. You can't keep doing this to yourself. You'll go mad."

"But…"

"No." She cut him off again. "I refuse to believe the Ministry would give her to anyone who might harm her. It hasn't happened and it's not going to."

Lowering his head so Hermione couldn't see his eyes, she got the distinct impression that Ron didn't quite believe her. "You should go back to bed." He mumbled after several silent minutes.

Instead of rising to her feet Hermione remained where she was and stroked his hair soothingly for several minutes. "I'd like to stay here with you. That is if you don't mind."

"I don't want you to be tired for work in the morning."

Ignoring his objection Hermione repositioned herself on his lap and tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. "I already told you, I can't sleep without you beside me. I'm awake now. So it's either you came back to bed with me or I'm awake anyway. And if I must be awake I would rather be with you."

Instead of protesting further like Hermione half expected, Ron tightened his hold on her drawing her even closer to his body. She closed her eyes and nestled into his warmth, breathing in his sent and trying to let it calm her as it once had. He still smelled the same, like chocolate, soap and something that was distinctly him, but it didn't have the same affect on her senses. She was still wound tighter then a spring.

Opening her eyes she stared blankly at the wall. As little as a week ago being folded into his arms like this would have had her feeling warm and protected, completely safe from the ugliness of the outside world. How she longed for those few happier days. She curled into a tighter ball in an attempt to ward away the hollow feeling of his arms. Something ate are her insides, a painful reminder of how much of Ron's happiness lay in her hands. The thought of failing him terrified her. The fear of it kept her awake at night almost as much as being without Blake did him.

"Are you sleeping?"

"No." She whispered, her voice muffled by his robes. "Are you?"

Ron snorted humorlessly. "Obviously not."

"Ron," She tilted her chin up so that she could look at him. She wanted to beg him to let her back in. To love her the way he had those first few days they had been together, but the words caught in her throat. She didn't want to burden him with her insecurities, for surely that was what was bothering her now. But she couldn't help how she felt. She felt like something was cleaving the connection between them. Something was stopping Ron from coming to her, something other than the absence of Blake. She hated to think it, the implication was enough to reduce her to tears, but it almost felt like he didn't trust her. Like he expected her to hurt him again. Fail him in some way.

She didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was something in the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Or the fact that he rarely talked to her anymore unless she asked him specific questions about the case. Or maybe it was the fact that he had stopped asking her if they could at least tell his mum they were together, a topic he had pursued with annoying persistency three weeks ago. She feared it meant he didn't want his mum to know because he didn't hold much hope of them staying together.

Her arms tightened around him as she squeezed her eyes tight in an attempt to block out the world. In her head she kept reminding herself that her fears were only her insecurities getting the best of her. Ron was just sad. It didn't mean that he loved her or trusted her any less. He was just so consumed with his worry for Blake that she was being…what? Neglected? Forgotten? Shunted aside? As wretched as it made her feel to admit it, a part of her wished that she and Ron had taken longer to work things out. A part of her, which she loathed, wished they could have waited until this whole mess with Blake was over. Life would be so much simpler. And hadn't they suffered enough already? How much more was going to be amassed on top of them before things would settle down and they would finally be allowed to live their lives without fear and disruption?

She clung to Ron tighter. Monday couldn't come soon enough. After Monday the hearing will have begun and she would be back on ground she understood. All her weeks of research, referencing, organizing, interviewing and worry would be over and she could present her findings in logical, concrete arguments that could not be possibly ignored or faulted by any Ministry official. Come Monday life might have a chance at returning to normal.

Deciding to try and follow her own advise and get some well needed sleep she forced her body to relax and steadied her breath. Mimicking her earlier thoughts she told herself she would be no good to Ron and Blake is she worked herself into an early grave.

&

Harry slowly carved into his roast as he tried his best not to stare down at the other end of the table where his two best friends were seated, several chairs apart, seemingly oblivious to one another. Where normally this might have been almost comical to him, tonight it only made his stomach churn. While Mrs Weasley was hovering over Ron trying her best to keep him happy, comfortable and talking, she only succeeded in making him more miserable, while Hermione was trying her upmost to stop herself from starring, a feat she was failing miserably. What was worse, she looked even more depressed and tired then Ron.

Tough neither of them said anything it was becoming increasingly apparently that something was amiss between the two. For anyone else in the family the indifference and tension between them would not seem out of the ordinary. They of course were not aware that Ron and Hermione had reconciled their problems. But for him and Ginny, who had been there to witness the few short days of bliss at the beginning or their relationship, the sudden change was nothing short of alarming. Neither of them had seen it coming.

For the first few days after Blake had been taken, excluding that first horrible night, it looked like Ron would be alright. It appeared that Hermione's returned presences in his life would be enough to keep him optimistic and focused. But then things had started to change. Slowly at first. The smile that had been all but plastered on Ron's face when he and Hermione were alone together had all but disappeared again in the proceeding weeks. He was becoming more restless as each day turned into the next and only managed to cease his aimless pacing when helping Hermione with her research. He threw himself into Blake's case with the same single-mindedness that Hermione had applied to her work in their school days. And most nights, Hermione confided, Ron spent either pacing or sitting on the floor of Blake's room.

Having made Ron's home the base camp for their research down outside office hours, Hermione had all but moved in with Ron since the night the Weasley siblings had labeled 'the event' had taken place. At first he had thought it was a splendid idea. The pair seemed to meld their lives so effortlessly together. It was the little things he noticed, things that would not be readily discerned by anyone who didn't know his two friends as well as he did.

Ron had become almost surprisingly neat when he moved into his own house. Where he couldn't bother to keep things tidy at Hogwarts or the Burrow he was able to when the building he was living in was his own. Harry knew it was done out of a sense of accomplishment and pride. He didn't want anyone thinking poorly of him because of the state of his home. So it wasn't that he wasn't neat, it was just that now Hermione was spending more time at his house there was more of a sense of organization.

Harry had walked into Ron's study one day to retrieve a file Hermione had left there, he and Ginny had brought the children over and were helping research for the hearing, and had been almost surprised to find that the few books Ron did own were now organized by subject and author and were joined by several large, thick tomes that were undoubtedly Hermione's.

This subtle change had taken place in different parts of the house as well. Vases of flowers sat in the middle of tables. Candles appeared on different surfaces and a few of her personal affects were mixed in with his. Shoes in the front hall closet, cloaks hanging on pegs just inside the doors, the scent of her perfume lingering in the house.

He knew Hermione would have moved in all together immediately if Ron asked her. That was one of the things that amused him most about her. When she made a decision she carried it through to the very end with little hesitation. Her relationship with Ron would have been no exception.

Now he was decidedly glad they hadn't. While he had always believed, though he had been reluctant to admit it for many years, that Ron and Hermione were perfect for each other, he wasn't certain the moment was right for them anymore.

Harry shook his head sadly as he freed a chunk from the rest of his roast and passed it between his lips. It wasn't only Ron's home life that was suffering under Blake's absences. Parker told him that Ron had become a completely different person at work. He was unusually short with his squad, snapping at his teammates for things that in the past would have made him laugh. He reprimanded them in front of their piers, something he never would have done in the past, and tore into them for the smallest infractions, including stopping their work to chat with other teammates. While Parker assured him that the rest of the team understood and didn't hold his surliness against him for now, he wasn't certain how much longer they would go on being forgiving. This was a side of Ron that Harry hadn't seen in years and so was at a loss of how to handle his behavior with the Ron he now was. He wasn't the same teenage boy that he had been the last time.

And what was more, in all the time that he had known the tall redhead, he had been the one to keep everyone lighthearted when things became too serious. It was Ron's humor that had kept him sane for most of his school years and most especially during the Horcrux search. He had always been so resilient that to see him turning in on himself and pushing everyone, especially Hermione, away like this was heartbreaking.

"What's the matter Ronnie?" Harry turned his head at the sound of Molly's voice. "Is there something wrong with the roast?"

"No Mum," Ron sighed heavily as he pushed a few peas around his plate. "It's fine. I'm just not hungry."

"Ronnie…"

"Mum," he said sharply, "don't."

"But Ron, I'm worried about you."

"Mum," he snapped. "Leave it. I don't want to talk about her."

"But…" Ron turned his cold eyes on his mother stopping the words in the back of her throat. For a moment it looked like she would persist but must have decided better as closed her mouth and leaned closer, placing her hand comfortingly on top of his. "Alright love." She patted it tenderly. "Alright."

Hermione frowned as she lowered her head. She shouldn't have been surprised Molly had noticed her son's lack of apatite. But of course where Molly was concerned it didn't matter how much food you shoveled down your throat she was never satisfied you ate enough. But this time where Ron was concerned she was spot on. He was still eating of course, a non-eating Ron could only be a dead Ron, but it was not with the same gusto and passion as before. Having spent almost every night of the last three weeks with him she of course knew what his evening eating habits were. While he made absolutely delicious dinners for her to eat, he never managed to swallow much more than a few mouthfuls. Even the nights that they had dinner with Harry and Ginny his sister hadn't been able to make him swallow more than a few bites.

She knew Harry and the Wesaleys thought Ron was responding simply to the loss of Blake, but today while she was at work she finally realized it was much more than that. She was sitting at her desk, trying to focus on Blake's case but was unable to pull her mind away from her troubles with Ron. She had been trying to reconcile the Ron she remembered with the Ron she now knew and the truth had finally come to her.

The reason why Ron was suffering from such an overwhelming lack of confidence was because he had built up such high expectations and faith in the Ministry. The Ministry in which he had spent the entirety of his grown life helping to rebuild and reestablish within the magical community. And it had let him down. The establishment wasn't perfect, Ron knew that as well as anyone, but he had been proud of the changes he had helped bring about and so saw the treatment of the Ministry towards him and his case now as a sort of betrayal. That perceived disloyalty was eating at him inside just as Harry's perceived disloyalty had in fourth year. His entire world was crumbling around him and Hermione was helpless to do anything but try and keep all the pieces together.

She did what she could, though her efforts felt insignificant at best. All of her other cases had been put on hold until after Blake's hearing. She spent nearly all her waking hours putting together their case, and the few hours she didn't spend on the case she spent trying her best to comfort Ron, another thing she knew as she looked over at him, she was failing horribly. She could feel the muscles around her heart pulling tighter the longer she watched him.

"Hermione, dear." Molly who seemed to have abandoned her attempts to cheer Ron for the moment focused her attention on Hermione. She was watching her and Ron closely. Hermione could see her eyes skipping back and forth between the two of them every so often. Though Molly was trying hard to suppress it Hermione could see the glimmer of hope in her eyes every time she looked at her. Hermione knew that Molly hoped she and Ron working so closely together on Blake's case would lead to reconciliation between them. "Are you ready for the hearing on Monday?" She asked, her eyes finally settling firmly on the younger girl.

Hermione quickly chewed and swallowed the potato she had crammed in her mouth. "Yes. Mrs Weasley. There isn't really much more I can do before the trial. But I'm confident we'll come out the victors in this."

"You see Ronnie." Molly's hand tightened on Ron's. "You needn't worry. You'll have Blake back in no time. Hermione'll see to that. She wouldn't even think of letting the Ministry get away with taking a Weasley. Not after all our years together. Why we're practically family." Her eyes narrowed on Hermione's. "Aren't we dear?"

Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat. Mrs Weasley had not only managed to make her feel horribly guilty, but somehow managed to shame all of nature into silence along with her. "Yes Mrs Weasley," she chocked. "Of course we are." She felt Ron's eyes join the other twelve pairs that were watching her. "I'm very confident that Blake will be back with us soon." Her voice shook, betraying her lack of certainty.

"There you have it." Molly straightened in her seat either ignoring or missing the wobble in Hermione's voice. "You have nothing to worry about Ronald. With Hermione on our side we can't lose."

Feeling a renewed rush of panic from the enormity or responsibility that was being thrust onto her shoulders, Hermione pushed back from the table and jumped to her feet. "Excuse me." She choked as she rushed towards the house.

"What the hell was that about?" Bill asked as the kitchen door closed with a loud bang.

Ginny whipped her mouth with her napkin. "I better go after her." She said rising to her feet and throwing the linen on top of her plate.

It took Ginny nearly ten minutes to find Hermione hiding in the toilet on the top most floor. She was sitting on the cold tile, wedged between the toilet basin and the bathtub, back against the wall, knees drawn up and arms wrapped tight around them. "Hermione?"

"Go away."

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

The young brunette refused to look at the redhead. "I asked you to go away."

Ginny closed the door behind her and leaned against it, arms crossed over her chest. "Not until you tell me what's the matter."

Hermione clamped her lips tight as she shook her head vigorously.

"Why not?"

"I don't want you telling Ron." She whispered into her knees.

"You don't want me telling Ron what?"

Hermione looked up at her friend with pleading eyes. "That I can't handle this." Her words were barely audible. "I can't handle this, Ginny, I can't."

Ginny cast a few privacy charms over her shoulder before she moved to sit on the closed toilet seat. She reached for Hermione's hand and pulled it into her lap where she clasped it tight. "You can't handle what?"

"You're families going to hate." Her breath shuttered as she breathed in and out. "Ron's going to hate me. I don't blame him. I would hate me too. I'll have to leave. I'll have to go back to Spain. I couldn't stay here knowing…living with what I had done. Everyday. I couldn't…I can't… I just…"

"Hermione," Ginny slid off the toilet onto her knees and released Hermione's hand so that she could take hold of her shoulders and give her one firm shake. "Snap out of it. No one is going to hate you."

"You will if I lose the case."

"You're not going…"

"Don't say that!" she said shrilly. "You don't know! No one knows!"

"Hermione!" Ginny shook her again. "Get a hold of yourself. Ron needs you right now."

Instead of having the sobering effect Ginny had imagined her words caused her friend to collapse completely. "No," Hermione sobbed, hiding her face from Ginny behind her hands. "He doesn't need me. He doesn't need me and he doesn't want me. All he wants is Blake. It's all he cares about. And I don't blame him. I really don't but…"

"Shhh," Ginny hushed as she pulled Hermione into her arms and started rocking her gently back and forth as if comforting a small child. "I was worried you would do this. You've been working yourself too hard again. You always do this. You get so focused on one of your projects that you forget to take care of yourself. You wouldn't be talking this if you actually got sleep at night."

Hermione shook her head against Ginny's shoulder. "It's not that. I…" She bit her bottom lip painfully to stop herself.

"You what?" Ginny asked. "Hermione," she persisted, "You what?"

"I think he regrets…"

"What utter nonsense." Ginny cut her off, sensing the end of her thoughts. "I thought you were supposed to be intelligent."

"But, Ginny…"

"Are you insane?" the redhead pulled away so that she could look Hermione directly in the eyes. "You think he regrets being with you? You're the only thing keeping him together. Without you he would have fallen apart a long time ago."

"But…"

"No." she said fiercely. "Don't you understand? He's behaving just like he did when you left five years ago. You broke his heart and he was on the verge of falling apart then as well. I think the only reason he didn't was that he had his work to throw himself into. Don't you see? He's trying so hard to be strong, and I know that makes him seem distant, but that's the only way he knows how to handle this. And I know that's hard on you, and it's not fair, but don't you fall apart on me now. Not when we're so close. The hearing is only a few days away. It's almost over."

Hermione had a lost look in her eyes. "Or it's almost just begun. Didn't you hear your mother, Ginny? _Hermione'll see to that. She wouldn't even think of letting the Ministry get away with taking a Weasley. Not after all our years together. Why we're practically family._"

"She only meant..."

"I know what she meant. And I know what that means for me." Hermione swallowed audibly. "It means Ron won't be the only one chucking me if I lose. I don't think anyone's going to want me around after that. Not if I cost the family a member."

Ginny retook Hermione's hand and clutched it tight. "That's nonsense. I'll still want you around." Hermione looked up staggered. "Do you think Harry and Ron were the only people who missed you while you were away? You're the only person I ever felt comfortable confiding in. You're the closest thing to a sister I have ever had and you're not even technically family. So who the fuck cares if Mum would want you around or not? I still would. And damn it Hermione, if you try running away to Spain again I swear by Merlin that I will track you down and drag you back myself, that is of course if Ron doesn't beat me to it. But then again, if you leave my brother like that again I'm going to have to kill. I don't know how he would survive if you left him a second time."

Hermione lowered her eyes to her knees. "I would only leave if he asked me to."

"Good." Ginny nodded. "There's no worries then. I think that might be the smartest thing I've heard you say all evening." She held onto Hermione a moment longer, her head tilted slightly to the side in thought. "You're sleeping at Grimmauld Place tonight." Hermione's eyes instantly grew wide and she opened her mouth to protest only to have Ginny cut her off. "Ron is welcome to spend the night as well. But you're going to take a sleeping draft. I'll force it down your throat if I have to. And maybe tomorrow after you've had some proper sleep you'll see that I'm right."

"I don't think…"

"Precisely. You haven't let yourself have enough sleep to think. In fact, I don't think one night of sleeping draft will be enough. You're staying the weekend."

"Oh but…"

"Or perhaps I'll let it slip to Mum while I'm helping her wash up where exactly you've been sleeping at night."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in horror. "You wouldn't."

"Don't test what I wouldn't do. You're staying and that's final." Ginny pushed to her feet, hauling Hermione up with her. "I'll tell Ron and let him know he's welcome as well."

"But…"

"No more excuses. You're going to need to be well rested if you have any hope of winning. Harry told me Paxman's a real snake. You're going to need your wits."

"Alright then." Hermione nodded in agreement. "You win."

"Of course I do." She strung her arm through Hermione's. "I always do. Here," she pulled her wand out from her cloak pocket. "Let me fix your face for you." A few flicks of her wand and several mumbled charms and Hermione's face was back to its normal tear-free, un-puffy state. "That's better."

By the time the two women reached the back garden the rest of the family was busy cleaning up after the meal. Chairs were being magiced into the house, the tables were being reduced back to their original size and some of the adults were on their way to the broom shed, no doubt in search of old brooms for a low-key game of Quidditch.

Upon seeing them emerge from the house, Fred, who had been leaning against the low garden wall with his arms crossed, snagged Ron by the arm and pulled him away from the paddock and around the side of the house.

"Fred?" Ron said questioningly, trying to pull his arm free. "What is it?"

Fred's fingers tightened. "Just come with me little brother."

"What for?"

"I need to talk to you." Fred kept a firm grip in Ron's arm until they were standing near the front gate, well away from the rest of the family and well out of earshot. "So," Fred turned to look at him. "Do you want to tell me why Hermione was crying?"

"Hermione was…" Ron made to turn back to the house but seemed to catch himself. Crossing his arms he refocused on Fred. "How should I know?"

Fred frowned disappointedly at Ron. "You know, most blokes would be concerned if their girlfriends locked themselves in the loo to cry."

"Hermione's not my…"

"I know Ron." Fred cut him off. "I've known for a while. Bea told me."

"Who?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Merlin Ron. Do you ever talk to your girlfriend? Bea? Beila? Ring any bells?"

Ron shook his head. "No. Should it?"

Fred shook his head with exasperation. "You're hopeless. Look," Fred held out his hand, "I know you think I'm an insensitive toerag who couldn't possible know a thing or two about girls. But listen to me. That girl back there, who you just let cry her eyes out…that's your dream girl. We all know it. Don't fuck things up. You'll regret it."

"Are you speaking from personal experience?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I know that the reason why Hermione leaves the Ministry late every day is because she makes floo calls back to her friend in Spain. Maybe if she felt like she could talk to you she wouldn't be pouring her heart out to Bea."

"Who the hell is Bea?"

Fred made a ticking sound with his tongue. "Maybe you should ask Hermione that. It's the kind of thing you should hear from her not me. Hey," he clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder when they hunched forward in a defeated manner. "We're all rooting for you. For you and both of your girls. I know I for one will be there on Monday with you."

"Yeah?"

Fred nodded. "George and I will be taking shifts so one of us is always there. I won the coin toss. Of course," he lowered his voice, "it was a trick coin so there was no chance I was going to lose, don't tell George that. But we'll both be there for the verdict."

"Thanks Fred."

"Forget about it. What else is family for? But seriously, Ron, think about what I said. In you effort to save one girl you don't want to lose the other."


	18. The Blythe Baby

Hello Everyone, it's me again. I just wanted to take a moment to say sorry for taking so long once again. I've had so much to do with the school term coming to an end and I just haven't had the time to work on this like I would have liked. But I only have one more week and the term is over and I head home so hopefully long waits won't happen again. As always I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, your insight is invaluable, so thank you. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I know nothing about law so I'm a little apprehensive, so let me know, yeah? Alright. That's enough of me wasting your time. I hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading, Noterwomann

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Chapter Eighteen: The Blythe Baby

Hermione felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Leaning back in her seat as far as she could she felt Harry bend forward to meet her ear. "How do you think its going?" He asked for the third time that morning.

Hermione did her best not to show her annoyance when she whispered back, "It's hard to say." She glanced at the older Official sitting half hidden behind his bench. "Ceemist is a hard man to read."

Harry, who was offered a better advantage of the man due to the raised bench he was sitting on, sat back in his seat, arms crossed and stared at the old man. As soon as they had learned who would be presiding over Blake's custody hearing Harry had pulled every file he could find on the man. From the information that he had gathered Triaquin Ceemist was a fair and just man, and best of all decidedly anti-Death Eater and anything that had to do with the dark arts, which of course bode well for them. To help add to Harry's feeling of well being, the man bore not a single controversial ruling to his name. So, despite his continued pestering, Harry was quite confident that Ron could not lose.

"Would you please tell Official Ceemist," The sound of Paxman's overbearing voice drew Harry's attention back to the hearing, "how long you've known, I'm sorry, knew Timothy and Vyvica Blythe?"

Sitting in the wooden chair, hands and feet bound in shackles was Malacar Amadeus. Harry didn't like him on sight. He had a mean sort of look about him, like he enjoyed attacking people just because he could.

"Well," Amadeus shifted in his seat. "Timothy's mum and mine were always real close. I suppose you could say we've known each other since the cradle. He asked me be best man at his wedding."

"So you two were close?"

"You could say that."

"Tell me, when did Timothy and Vyvica ask you to be godfather to their child?"

"First thing they did when they found out. They'd been trying for years to have an heir. Someone to carry on their legacy, you know. Uphold the family honor and the like."

"And they asked you to do watch out for her. To take care of her, to teach her if something were to happen to them?"

"Didn't I just tell you they did?"

"A yes or no answer please, Mr Amadeus."

"Yes."

Paxman nodded. "Why do you think they asked you? Besides the obvious lifelong friendship?"

"What you have to understand," Amadeus tried to shift into a more comfortable position but the shackles held him, "Timothy and Vyv were of a certain, shall we say, social standing. They would have wanted their daughter reared to uphold that tradition and to eventually take her place amongst her peers."

"And you don't think this is a task that Mr Weasley is capable of upholding?"

"No, I do not."

"Why is that?"

"Because," Amadeus turned and sneered at Ron. "Not only is Mr Weasley not of the same social standing as the Blythes, he does not share their same political views. He would undoubtedly ruin any chance she had of functioning as a high standing member of society, which would in turn prove impossible for her to make an acceptable marriage."

"An acceptable marriage?"

"Tim and Vyv would have arranged her marriage. They would have wanted her to uphold her noble bloodline."

"Thank you. I have no more questions."

"Ms Granger?"

Hermione remained sitting, her eyes focused on Paxman. "What's the matter?" She heard Harry whisper.

"I thought Paxman would have questioned him longer." She whispered back.

"What do you think it means?"

"I have no idea."

"Ms Granger," she snapped back to attention when Ceemist called her name. "Your witness."

"Yes, right." She rose to her feet as Paxman took his seat, a smug look etched on his face. "Mr Amadeus," she stepped around the side of her table, "Can you please tell me where your current residences is?"

Amadeus narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Azkaban Prison."

"An unusual choice in location to raise a child, don't you think?"

"Ms Granger, you must realize that I wouldn't be raising the child there?"

"Where would you be raising her then?"

"I wouldn't be."

"You wouldn't be?" Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Then who will be raising Blake?"

"Objection. Your Honor, I thought we'd already covered this. Until a decision has been made over her custody…"

"Yes, yes Mr Paxman, I quite remember. Ms Granger," Ceemist sighed heavily. "Please refer to the child in question as the Blythe Baby so we can continue without anymore unnecessary interruptions."

"I'm sorry your honor. Mr Amadeus," she turned back to the Death Eater, "Who will be raising the Blythe Baby while you are carrying out your sentence?"

"My sister, Melantha and her husband Carbonell Javed."

"Melantha and Carbonell Javed?"

"Yes."

"The same Melantha and Carbonell Javed who are currently being investigated by the Ministry for Death Eater activity?"

Amadeus glared at Hermione. "Yes."

"And when they're convicted?"

"Objection!" Paxman was on his feet again, "If the Ministry had any concrete proof that Melantha and Carbonell Javed ever participated in Death Eater activity they would have been charged already. As such, the investigation against them should have no bearing in this case."

"Your honor, if custody is granted to the Javeds and if the charges are carried though, which I am told should happen in a matter of days, and they are convicted, Bla- the Blythe Baby, will be in the same predicament she is in now. I am merely asking if that should happen who would be taking over the care of the child?"

Ceemist nodded. "It seems a fair question. Mr Amadeus, please answer."

The look Malacar Amadeus threw at Hermione was one of pure loathing. "I suppose then my mother would raise her."

"And how old is your mother?"

"Seventy-eight."

"And her health?" Hermione took a step forward when he didn't answer. "How is her health, Mr Amadeus?"

"Not good."

"That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it? In fact, isn't your mother in such power health that a private Medi-Wizared had to be hired to care for her?"

"Yes."

"She isn't expected to live much longer, is she Mr Amadeus?"

"She could make a recovery."

"According to the files I've obtained from St Mungos, she's been given anywhere from three weeks to four months. She's bed ridden and heavily potioned. How is a woman this sick meant to care for a child under the age of one?"

"Someone will be hired to mind her."

Hermione spun on him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Are you saying you're going to hire someone to raise the little girl if you gain custody."

"Yes." He turned up his chin. "Yes I am."

"You're going to let a complete stranger live in your house, I'm assuming, and pay them to raise your best friend's child?'

"If that's what it takes."

"It doesn't seem a very healthy situation for a child to grow up in. What happens if this care giver decides they no longer wish to work for your family? Who's going to watch the baby while someone new is hired?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know. I also suspect you don't really care who raises her, do you Amadeus? That's not what this is about, is it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The Blythes never asked you to be their child's godfather did they?"

"Of course they did."

"No," Hermione said firmly, "they didn't. Do you know why they didn't, Mr Amadeus?"

"I tell you they…"

"Haven't talked to you in nearly three years. Isn't that right?"

"I…"

"You didn't like Vyvica Watter Blythe, did you?" Amadeus pinched his mouth tight and turned away from her. "Timothy Blythe asked you to be his best man at their wedding, but you turned him down. Got into a big fight over it. It came to punches according to witness reports. You two had to be torn off each other, didn't you?" Hermione was standing right in front of him now, staring him down with a fire in her eyes that matched the loathing in his. "I have people willing to testify to the fact. You were so angry with him, you hated them so much, you wouldn't have talked to him again if you hadn't found yourself in a bit of trouble, would you? He helped you flee the country out of a sense of duty, because of your past, not because of any friendship you hold still. He never asked you to be Blake's godfather did he?"

"Objection!"

"Fine! Timothy Blythe never asked you to be the _baby's_ godfather, did he? The only reason you're pursuing this is because you discovered that the man who tracked you down and caught you, who brought you back to England to face trial and thus got you sentence to life in Azkaban, was planning on adopting that baby. You wanted to punish him for what he did to you? Isn't that right?"

"So what if I did?"

"Objection!"

"It doesn't change what they would have wanted."

"But that's what this is all about, isn't it?" Hermione persisted, ignoring Paxman's shout of outrage. "You care more about punishing him then what is right for that little girl."

"Ms Granger," Hermione's eyes snapped to where Ceemist was sitting, no longer passive but at attention, sitting forward, starring down at her through slightly narrowed eyes. "That's enough."

Hermione stared at him a moment longer before nodding and taking a step back. "No further questions."

"Mr Paxman, care to redirect?"

"No your Honor."

"Then you're free to take your seat, Mr Amadeus."

When Hermione sat down there was almost an immediate tap on her shoulder. She leaned back.

"That was amazing." She could hear the pride in her friend's voice. "Did you see him squirm?"

Hermione tried her best not to smirk. "As a matter of fact I did. I had a front row view."

Harry snickered as he squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. "You're doing great."

"It's only the first day."

"Still,"

Another bench groaned behind them as Parker leaned forward and braced his arm on the low wall that separated the gallery from the rest of the court room. "When does Ron testify?"

Hermione looked over at the silent redhead. "If things go my way I'll call him last. I would rather his testimony be the last thing the Official hears." And with that she sat forward in her seat and redirected her attention to the next witness.

Three days later Hermione and Paxman were still battling it out. It was a clash of words, each side tearing into the other leaving their opponents feeling raw and bloody. Ron was reacting particularly bad. Every accusation and attack of character Paxman threw in his direction seemed to cut him deep and Hermione no longer trusted her decision to wait so long to call him to the stand. The man now sitting in the witness chair looked like he had never been in a courtroom before let alone testified at the hearing of countless numbers of Death Eaters. He looked like he was going to crack at any moment.

Hermione, who was still sitting at her table, didn't look like she was faring much better. Taking a sip of water, she set down her glass, smoothed her official robes, and rose to her feet. Ron looked up at her sudden movement and she tried to flash him an encouraging smile but he didn't seem to notice.

"Would you please state your full name?"

The blood was pounding deafeningly loud in his ears and so it took him a moment to realize she had asked him a question "Er," He swallowed and forced himself to look up at her. Their eyes caught and his nerves began to calm. "Captain Ronald Bilius Weasley." He finally said.

"Occupation?"

"I'm an Auror. For the Ministry."

"And your full title?"

"Well, I'm Captain Ronald Bilius Weasley, Alpha Squad."

"Would you mind explaining what that means?"

"The Auror department is divided into five different teams. Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and Epsilon. The members of each team are decided by ability. The higher the skill or the ability of an Auror determines which squad they join. Cases are then divided between the five teams based on danger, importance, risk, and many other factors. The Epsilon team will handle minor cases, the Alpha team top priority."

"And you're Captain to the Alpha Squad?"

"Yes."

"That's quite an honor."

"So I've been told."

"How long have you been an Auror?"

"I guess I joined up almost six years ago now."

"And how long have you been Captain of the Alphas?"

"A little over two and a half years."

"And since that time how many Death Eaters have you brought to justice?"

Ron's brow scrunched in thought. "I have no idea. Haven't exactly kept a tally, have I?"

"Would you be shocked to learn that records indicate you've brought in over four times as many Death Eaters in as much time as your predecessor?"

For a moment he stared at her, clearly not sure how to answer. "Yes."

"So the Ministry trusts you?"

Ron's lips twitched in the barest hint of a smile. "I would say so. Yes."

"How did you come to have the Blythe Baby in your care?"

"How exactly do you mean?"

"Just start at the beginning."

"Alright," he folded his fingers painfully together. "My team was put in charge of the Blythe case sixteen months ago. We had reason to believe that they were guilty of Death Eater activity. We immediately set out to get one of our Aurors infiltrated into their house to gather evidence. We lost," he swallowed, "we lost some of our best to this case. It wasn't until I sent Felix Blume in that we got anywhere. He was able to successfully collect and pass enough information to put both Timothy Blythe, his wife Vyvica, and several of their closest friends and colleagues in Azkaban. However, as invaluable as he was to the investigation, Blume failed to pass on the information that the Blythes had recently started a family. He assumed it was something we already knew, and it was something we never thought to ask. My team was forced to move in on the Blythes when Blume failed to meet me for one of our debriefings. By the time we arrived at Blythe Manor it was to find they had taken Blume hostage. When we attempted to bring them in they fought back and that resulted, unfortunately, in both of their deaths. With no known living relatives the decision was made for Blake to…"

"Objection," Paxman was on his feet. "Your Honor please remind Mr Weasley…"

"Captain." Ron barked over the other man's voice.

"My apologies. Please remind _Captain_ Weasley that he had no legal right to name that baby, and as such…"

"Yes, yes." Ceemist raised his hand. "I know, I know. Captain Weasley, please restrain yourself."

Ron took a breath as he flexed and unflexed his figners. "As I was saying, with no known living relatives to place her with, the decision was made to place the Blythe Baby with me until other accommodations could be made for her. We made every effort to locate a surviving member of her family, but none could be found."

"And when did you make the decision to adopt her?"

"I don't know if there really was a moment when I decided. It was more a slow realization that I wasn't giving her up unless I had too. Which is why I pushed my team to find anyone who might have any possible claim to her, which included potential godparents. We found none."

"Now tell me, why did you decide to adopt the her?"

"Because," Ron looked beseechingly at the judge. "I love her. I couldn't love her more if had fathered her myself. She saved me."

"How so?"

Ron swallowed audibly. He turned his face away from Hermione, focusing solely on his hands. "I was hurt very bad by someone I cared a great deal about. I shut myself off from people in hopes that I would never be hurt again. She changed that. I'm willing to take that risk again, and it's because of her." The chocking sound Ron made was halfway between a laugh and a sob. "She snuggled her way into my heart and I'm afraid she's stuck there now."

Hermione stared at Ron a moment unspeaking. Needing something to do she flipped open a file and focused unseeingly on the page so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Is that why you decided to hold a naming ceremony?"

"Partly."

"Please elaborate."

"I guess there are several reasons why I made that decision. She's a part of my family now. She's been accepted as a niece and a cousin and a granddaughter, and truth be told we were all tired of calling her baby all the time. As a member of the Weasley family she deserved to have a name. And as to why I held an official ceremony, it was my way of honoring her parents."

"How so?"

"Traditionally, Blythes only have one child. Because of that they want to make sure they have the name exactly right. Traditionally the naming ceremony is also the families chance to officially welcome the new heir into the fold."

"Why did you feel it was so important to carry on that particular Blythe Family tradition?"

"Because, weather I intended it or not, I stole her family from her. And I want to make sure she has a little bit of them with her always. Because, I don't want Blake to…"

"Objection! Your Honor,"

"Captain Weasley,"

"I'm sorry." Ron turned to face the official. "I'm sorry your Honor, but she's not the Blythe Baby to me. She's my daughter."

"She's not your daughter."

Ron turned his eyes on Paxman, blasting him with a look of bitter loathing. "She is my daughter." His voice rang filled with resolve. "I love Blake. I would do anything for her. Anything. I don't want to cause her anymore pain then she's already been through. I don't want her to suffer the way my best friend did. I want her to know who her birth parents are. I want her to understand where she came from and to not be ashamed of it. I held the naming ceremony because it was not only an important part of her family history, but the perfect way to officially make her a part of mine."

Hermione gave Ron a moment to take a few breaths and compose himself while Paxman took his seat. When she thought he was ready she continued. "You said holding the naming ceremony would officially make her a part of your family. It's interesting that you should say that." Ron watched her turn and walk back to the table where she pulled out her wand and cast a levitating charm on a massive, leather bound book sitting in the corner. She directed the book to where Ron was sitting. "Tell me Captain Weasley, what name did you choose to bestow on the Blythe Baby?"

"Blake Weasley."

"Full name please."

"Blake Kinley Weasley."

"Blake Kinley Weasley." With a flick of her wand the massive tome flipped open and pages whooshed like a fan until they stopped suddenly. Your Honor, I would like to place into evidence the Official Hogwarts Registry." She turned the book until it was facing Ron. "Could you tell me what name appears fourth from the top?"

Ron leaned forward over the book until he could see the name scribed out in elegant swirls. "Blake Kinley Weasley."

"Your Honor, why is this relevant?"

Hermione whirled to face Paxman who was once again on his feet, "You would know why if you didn't insist on interrupting me all the time." She glared him back into his seat. "It's relevant not only because of the origins of the naming ceremony, but because of the binding magic it ensues. Captain Weasley," she continued to glare at Paxman, "Do you know the origins of the naming ceremony?"

"No."

"Don't worry. Most don't." She began walking in a broad circle so that her words would be directed at the entire courtroom. "Most parents believe that it is necessary to magically name a child so that that child's name appears here," she motioned to the book still open before Ron, "in the Official Hogwarts Registry. But that's simply not true." She walked briskly to her table and picked up one book after the other, "Viola Gwyn, Neilander Smithfield, Luton Vanbrough, Walbrook Hawksmore, Chelso Arimothea, Astoria Acton Spanler Murry Severndroog. All experts in their field and all agree on the same thing. A naming ceremony is held to magically bind a child to a family. They make it clear, a child is not only bound to its family through its blood, but through it's magic. That's why we see a proficiency in certain kinds of magic passed down through the generations. That's also why squibs have such a strained relationship with their magical families. It's because they can sense that bond, but never be a part of it. In the case of Captain Weasley and the little girl in question, that bond has already been establish. Her magic is Weasley magic. The proof of it is in this book." She tapped the page of the Hogwarts tome. "Blake Kinley _Weasley._ Not Blythe, _Weasley._ She will be a Weasley now, for the rest of her life, even if she were to be renamed. It wouldn't change here." Her fingers grazed the pages of the mammoth book.

"According to the ancient laws of magic," she summoned another book and flipped the pages open, "set down by the Council of 493," she placed the open book on Ceemists desk and directed his eyes to one of the paragraphs, "the Amadeus family has absolutely no claim on this child. The laws of magic are more binding then any court, and the results of their decision are clear." She used her wand to close the Official Hogwarts Registry and set it with the rest of the evidence. "No further questions."

Hermione returned to her seat, a slight smirk on her lips for Paxman. Seeming not to notice, Paxman remained in his chair, lazily flipping through his own files, ankles crossed in a relaxed pose. "I see here you killed Timothy and Vyvica Blythe."

"Excuse me?" Ron's spine stiffened with surprise, his eyes focusing on the other man.

"It says here that your team is responsible for the deaths of Timothy Blythe and his wife Vyvica Watter Blythe."

"Their deaths were a horrible accident. There was nothing I could have done to prevent them."

"But isn't that your job?"

"I can't possibly be everywhere at once."

"But aren't you trained to handle every situation?"

"Yes, but…"

"So how did this one get so far out of your control?"

"Objection. Your Honor, Captain Weasley and his team have already been exonerated of any fault in the Blythes' death."

"I'm aware of that Ms Granger, seeing as I as the one that cleared them. Mr Paxman, is there a reason you're dredging up a closed case?"

"Yes your Honor. I'm trying to establish that weather directly or indirectly, Mr Weasley…"

"Captain." Ron snapped, his eyes blazing bright with anger.

"Excuse me?"

"_Captain_ Weasley, not Mr."

"I'm sorry _Captain _Weasley." He didn't look a bit of it. "As I was saying," he turned back to the Ministry Official, "Weather directly or indirectly, _Captain_ Weasley and his team are responsible for the death of the Blythes. Is that a healthy situation for a child to grow up in? Knowing that the man she knows as father is in fact responsible for killing her real one?"

"I admit," Ron said uneasily, "that concern has crossed my mind."

"And yet you still went through the adoption process?"

"Yes."

"But you never wanted to have children."

Ron sat back in surprise. "Of course I did."

"Not according to statements given by friends and family." Ron's eyes flashed to where his friends and family were sitting, instantly recognizable by the amount of red hair clumped together. Those that were there were looking around at each other, trying to discern from the others faces who was guilty of such treachery.

Paxman summoned a file from his table. "Twenty different statements, all saying the same thing. Ronald Weasley avoids children like dragonpox."

"That's not true. I have a very good relationship with all my nieces and nephews. Not to mention my relationship with Blake."

"You mean the Blythe Baby?"

"No," Ron said firmly. "I mean Blake. She's my daughter. I named her. Blake Kinley Weasley. That is her name. It's in the Hogwarts Register for Merlin's sake. Her name is Blake."

"Why did Roland Greene put her in your care?"

"What?"

"According to Greene's secretary, you fought him over it. He had to threaten your job in order for you to agree to take her home. Why is that, if you love children so much?"

"I was in a bad place. I didn't know how to take care of children and I didn't want her in my house."

"Then why was she placed with you when she could have been placed with someone trained to handle children in these types of situations?"

Ron sighed heavily. "Because Roland didn't want word getting out about what had happened." Paxman raised a brow indicating he was waiting for Ron to elaborate. "For the past five years, nearly six, we've been working to change the view of the Ministry in the eyes of the wizarding community. Those in power didn't want it widely known that the Aurors had played a role in her parents deaths. She was placed with me to help protect our image."

"Is it not also true that she was placed with you as a form of punishment?"

Ron's eyes widened for the briefest moment in surprise. "Yes. It is."

Paxman's eyes glowed with a knowing twinkle. "What were you being punished for?"

Ron felt a well of hatred, the likes of which he had never felt before. "Roland thought we had grown too comfortable in our jobs."

"Too comfortable? Don't you mean too careless?"

"I've never been careless. Not when there are human lives at stake. We had already lost too many Auros to this case. I wasn't willing to lose any others."

"So it didn't matter that two suspected Death Eaters lost their lives so long as you didn't lose anymore members of your team?"

"I didn't say that. If I had it my way Timothy and Vyvica would be rotting in Azkaban right now with the rest of their Death Eater mates. It's not my job to play jury, it's my job to bring them in. And your job to try and get them off."

"So," Paxman said, his voice as smooth as ever. "The Blythe Baby was placed in your care as punishment for you becoming careless. Sounds like a risky move if you ask me. Who's to say she wouldn't have gone the same way as her parents."

"Objection!" Hermione screeched.

"I'm a good Auror." Ron's strong voice rose above the commotion in the courtroom. "I have a clean record. The Ministry trusts me to head their most delicate cases. I think I can be trusted to handle one small child. I would never, I repeat, never hurt a child. Especially that one. Everything I have done since the day Timothy and Vyvica died I have done for her."

"Or her money." The courtroom fell eerily quiet. "You consider yourself an expert on the Blythe case, don't you, Captain Weasley?" Paxman walked towards Ron, a satisfied smile on his face. "Would you please answer the question?"

Ron forced the anger rising inside of him back down to the pit of his stomach where it twisted it into tighter knots, churning what little food he had eaten that morning until it was ready to make a reappearance. "What was that?"

"Do you consider yourself an expert on the Blythe case?"

"I know the case backwards and forwards."

"I thought you would. Why don't you tell us about your childhood?"

"What has that to do with anything?"

"Was your family well off?"

"That has nothing to d…"

"Just answer the question, Captain Weasley."

"Well, no,"

"You hated being poor, didn't you?"

"Yes but,"

"It even made you jealous of your best friend."

"Sometimes, but you see…"

"And that's the real reason you decided to adopt the Blythe Baby, isn't it?"

"What?" Ron's skin turned a violent shade of red. "What exactly are you insinuating?"

"I'm not insinuating anything. I am coming to a logical conclusion. You admit to knowing the Blythe case backwards and forwards?"

"Yes."

"You admit you hated being poor as a child."

"Yes, but…"

"And when the Blythe Baby first came into your care you wanted nothing to do with children."

"Not children, just babies."

"Just babies?"

"Yes."

"And you don't find it odd that this child, a child who happens to be the sole heir to a vast fortune, is the one to change your mind?"

"You think I want to adopt her because she's rich?" Ron asked with disbelief.

"The information more than suggests it."

"I would never…To even…Your Honor," Ron turned on the grey haired man. "What need would I have for her fortune? I make more than enough money to comfortably support us both."

"But not at the same level as you brother-in-law."

Ron turned on the other councilor. "I could give a fuck how much money Harry has or makes. It was never about having a lot. It was about never having anything new. But I can do that for myself now. I don't need to live lavishly to be happy. I live in a house that's big enough for me. I can afford to go bigger, to buy more. But I don't need to. And to be honest, I would give away everything, all my saving if it meant I got to keep Blake."

Paxman smiled acidly. "What lovely sentiments."

"You smug prick." Ron seethed through his teeth.

"Ronald, stop it."

The redhead ignored Hermione's warning. "I love Blake. _Blake_, not her inheritance. Keep it for yourself for all I care. Give it to charity. Burn it. Throw it away. I don't care. I don't want it and I don't need it. All I care about is Blake. Do you want to know why I wanted to adopt her? Because I couldn't bear the thought of her leaving. Of her going to live with someone else, growing up to call him Daddy. It was me who stayed up with her all night when she couldn't sleep. I'm the one who knows her habits, what foods she loves, what foods she hates. I'm the only one who knows how to calm her into sleep. When she did her first accidental magic it was me who beamed with pride as I cleaned up the mess. Fuck the money, just give me my little girl back."

"Your sentiments are…admirable, Captain Weasley. But it still doesn't change the fact that you are not the type of person the Blythe's would have chosen to raise their daughter. You can't offer her anything the Blythes would have deemed important. Social standing, refinement, political awareness, respect for their historic bloodline. The Amadeus family can give her that and more. They can lead her through her role in society, a role they share in almost equal measure. Compared to that, what do_ you_ have to offer?"

"Love." Ron said to Paxman's retreating back. "Stability. A family that loves her. Strong women to look up too. A chance at a normal life. And most of all, a home free of mind poisoning prejudice. She'll be able to grow up making decisions based on what she wants and not what tradition dictates. That's what I have to offer her. And if you ask me, and I know you never would, that sounds like a whole hell of a lot more than what the Amadeus family can offer."

Paxman's lips twitched with annoyance. "I think you would be surprised what the Amadeus family can offer. There's no telling what lengths they would go for one of their own." His eyes flickered a moment to the Ministry official. "No more questions."

"Very well." Ceemist shifted in his seat. He took up a stack of parchment and shuffled it into a neat pile. "Ms Granger," he turned to her. "Would you like to redirect?"

She rose to her feet. "No your Honor."

"Then Mr Weasley you're free to step down."

Ron slowly pushed to his feet and walked back to his seat beside Hermione. His heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't know what to think anymore. Hermione had made it seem like their case was a cut and dry win, but after that… It took every ounce of restraint he had not to rush across the courtroom and pummel the smirk off of Paxman's ugly face. He loathed that man perhaps more then he even did Amadeus and his family.

Ron sank into his chair and Harry instantly reached forward to clap his shoulder while Hermione slipped her hand into his lap under the table and gripped his fingers. He squeezed her's back to try and tell her he was fine.

Up at his bench Ceemist was leaning forward on his elbows, face pressed into his locked hands. His eyes kept darting around the room, landing on one face briefly before moving to the next. Eventually his eyes focused on Ron. He blinked several times. "Alright then." He straightened to his full height. I'm ready to make my decision."


	19. Don't Do Anything Stupid

Hello Everyone, I know it's been an insanely long time since I last updated. I don't know what to say. I thought that when I got home I would have all this time to myself that I could use for writing, but that has quiet obviously not happened. I really need to find myself a new job. One that doesn't require waking at insaneo'clock in the morning. Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, especially those who took the time to remind me that I was taking so long and get my head out of my rectum and get this chapter up. I really hope you like it. Please let me know what you think and I really will try and get the next chapter up much sooner. Alright. Enough rambling. Happy Reading Everyone, Noterwomann

Chapter Nineteen: Don't Do Anything Stupid

She couldn't move. She couldn't think. She didn't know what to think. For perhaps the first time in her life Hermione's mind had completely shut down. It just wasn't possible. It wasn't. What was Ceemist playing at? He couldn't hand Blake over to the Amadeus like this. It wasn't right. It wasn't legal. This could not be happening.

A distressed whimper had her spinning around to face the man standing next to her. "Ron." She reached for him only to have him step back, her fingers falling short of his arm.

"You…You said…"He shook his head, his eyes staring blankly at her. "You said I couldn't lose. You said they didn't have a chance. You promised me."

"Ron, I…" But she didn't know what to say. What could she say?

From across the room Malacar glared at them, a gleam of smug satisfaction on his lips.

"Mr and Mrs Javed," Ceemist spoke over the raised voices. "If you'll just wait here a moment I can have the child brought to you and you can take her home today."

"Thank you your Honor." Melantha said from where she stood next to her brother. Malacar motioned his sister closer by crooking his finger and she bowed her head close to his mouth. He whispered something in her ear and she nodded, casting a quick glance at Hermione and then the Official.

"Hermione," the brunette turned away from the Amadeuses and faced Harry and Parker who were standing behind her, identical masks of disbelief on their faces. "What just happened?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, doing little to mask her own confusion. "I…I don't know."

"This doesn't make sense." Parker slammed his palm into the rail separating them. "I looked over the material. It was sound. What is Ceemist thinking?"

"Hermione," Ron gripped her arm. "Wha- What just…What the hell just happened?" His stared at her through wet blue eyes, begging her to tell him this wasn't happening, that it was all just a bad dream. She opened her mouth but no words came out. She didn't know what to say.



The doors to the courtroom opened and Ron spun around. He staggered forward a step and reached for the back of his chair for support. "Blake." Her name tumbled out of his mouth at the sight of her.

The small child was looking around, eyes wide and frightened. Her cheeks were slightly sunken and pale, as if she hadn't slept in days. The witch who was carrying her was speaking in soothing tones, running her fingers through the little girl's soft hair in an attempt to calm her.

"Blake." Ron said again, concern for her ragged appearance making him take a step forward.

Blake's head turned sharply at the sound of her name and her eyes lit up when she saw Ron's pale white face. As the woman carrying her drew closer, Blake leaned over and reached for Ron, her small fingers grasping at him. Ron made to take her.

"Ron," Hermione said through her teeth while pushing his arms down. "Don't."

He wasn't listening. Blake screeched with outrage and flung herself to the side trying to reach Ron, her cries instantly getting louder when Ron didn't immediately reach for her.

"Blake." Ron lurched forward only to have Hermione fling up her hands and force him back. "Hermione let me go. Blake needs me."

"Ron, no." She struggled to hold him back. "Don't make a scene. It won't help your case."

Ron's eyes flashed dangerously. "Case?" He angrily batted her hands away. "What case? I've already lost."

"Ron please," she couldn't keep the hurt from her voice. "Listen to me. We can still appeal or..."

"Like that'll do any good."

Sobbing hysterically Blake flailed wildly in Melantha Javed's arms trying to get free, her small hands still reaching for Ron. Without thinking the tall redhead pushed past Hermione, his protective instincts taking over, nearly knocking her off her feet.

"Harry," Hermione called desperately. "Stop him."

Seconds later Harry was over the barrier and between Ron and the Amadeus family, struggling to hold him back. "Don't do this mate. You'll regret it later."

"Harry," Ron's voice had an edge of warning, "get out of my way."

"Don't make it any worse than it already is."

Ron took hold of Harry's robes and pulled him forward so he was right in his friends face. "Move or I'll make you."

"Ron," Parker put a firm hand on his shoulder. "You don't want to do anything stupid."



His fingers curled tighter, pulling the fabric of the robes tight across Harry's throat, beginning to constrict his air supply. "Blake _needs_ me."

Parker attempted with little success to pry Ron's fingers from Harry's robes. "Blake needs you to stay calm so you can fight this."

"But…" The words died on his lips. Melantha drew level with him, stopped a moment, then smirked with satisfaction as she continued past, holding Blake close to her body, restraining the baby's wild movements. Her eyes met Ron's as she pressed a loud kiss to Blake's cheek. Ron lurched forward and it took the combined effort of both Harry and Parker to hold him back.

"Blake! Get your hands off her! You sadistic, spiteful, hag!"

"Ronald Weasley!" Snapped Molly. "Watch your mouth."

"I'll handle this Mrs Weasley." Said Hermione.

"Let me go." Ron continued to struggle against Harry and Parker's hold. "Let me go! Blake!"

Carbonell hurried forward to open the doors of the courtroom for his wife. Melantha stepped through and with a swoosh of her robes she was gone. The heavy panel closed and Blake's anguished cries were cut short.

"Let go!" Ron swung wide, nearly throwing Harry off. "Blake! Blake! Damn it Harry, let me go! I have to stop them! I have to go get her! She belongs with me! I need to…I need to..."

"Ronald Weasley, stop it." Hermione said firmly, putting herself directly in his line of vision. "Stop talking foolish. This isn't helping anyone."

Paxman, who was heading toward the exit, slowed to a stop just behind Hermione's shoulder. His lips turned up in the corner. "I told you they would surprise you."

Ron lunged forward, his anger instantly transferring to the man standing before him. He wanted to beat that smirk off his face. Pummel him until he hurt as much as Ron did.

"Ronald, calm down." Hermione advised, adopting once again the cool tone they used when around others. "Just ignore Paxman. You don't want to ruin your last chance to get her back."

"You might want to listen to your council, CaptainWeasley." Said Paxman. "You don't want to do anything rash."

Ron lurched against the restraining hands. "Rash is what I should have been from the beginning."

"Ron," Hermione whispered harshly, "let me handle this."

"Why?" He snapped, finally managing to fling off the hands that still restrained him. "Because you've done such a bang up job already? She's gone and you promised me. You said you'd get her back for me. 

You promised." Ron took a step away from her, turning his head away as if he couldn't bear to look at her. "I have to go." He pushed his way past Hermione and escaped the members of his family who had come for the verdict, rushing past them before they had a chance to corner him. He fled the room, not even bothering to stop when Molly called his name.

"Harry," Hermione whirled around frantically looking for him. "Harry." She cried with relief when she found him. "Go after him please." She clung onto his arm, her fingers biting into the soft flesh of his wrist. "Go get him. Go get him and bring him back to the Burrow. Don't let him leave. Whatever you do, don't let him leave." She warned. "Keep him there until I arrive. Do you understand me?"

"Hermione, I don't think…"

"I don't care what you think." She snapped. "Just do it."

"But what if he won't come? I think he wants to be alone."

"I don't care if he wants to be alone. You go get him and you bring him to the Burrow. Now. Do whatever it takes. Petrify him. Knock him out. Bind him. Just get him to the Burrow and keep him there or _you_ are going to be missing a very important part of your anatomy." Her eyes flickered down for just a moment.

"Alright, alright." Harry took a hasty step back, unconsciously moving his hands to guard that part of his anatomy. "I'll get him. I'll get him." He repeated when Hermione made for her wand as if she didn't believe him.

"I'll go with you." Parker offered stepping forward.

"No." Hermione flung up a hand. "I need your help for something else. Harry," she nodded him toward the door. With a nod of his own, Harry turned on his heal and hurried after Ron.

"What do you need Hermione?"

Looking around she noticed Paxman was still standing just a short distance away, attempting to appear like he wasn't listening. Taking hold of Parker's arm she led him to the corner where she could be certain they were alone and could not be overheard. "I need you to gather the Alphas." She said in a lower voice. "Get as many of them on this case as you can."

"What are you thinking?"

Hermione looked almost reluctant to answer.

"You think they got to him."

Hermione bit her bottom lip painfully as she glanced to the bench where Ceemist had been sitting not minutes ago and nodded. "It's the only logical explanation." She turned her eyes back on Parker. "I don't think Ceemist wanted to give the Amadeuses custody. He seemed reluctant and his ruling goes completely against his record. And did you hear what Paxman said. He all but admitted they would do 

anything to win. I just…" She took a steadying breath. "Get the team started on this. For Ron. We need to fix this before he does something…"

"Stupid?" Parker offered when Hermione seemed unable to find a word.

She rubbed wearily at her eyes. "I just don't want him getting into trouble. There's simply too much at stake. So many people depend on him."

"After I get the team started on this do you want me to go and watch the Burrow? Just in case?"

Hermione nodded absently. "I think that's a good idea. Harry might need your help. Now if you'll excuse me."

"Where are you going?"

"I made Ron a promise." She strode purposefully towards the door. "I need to start my appeal."

* * *

"Don't lurk in the doorway." Liquid swished in the bottom of a bottle. "If you have something to say, come in and say it." Harry pushed open the door and stepped into the nursery. Ron started a moment before he swallowed another gulp of the amber liquid. "Harry. I thought you'd be Hermione."

"Did you?" Ron didn't answer. "She sent me."

"Of course she did." Ron turned away from Harry. "Too afraid to come here herself I expect."

"Ron,"

"Pull up some floor." He cut Harry off, extending the bottle towards him. "Have a drink."

Harry took the bottle and tipped back his head as he sank onto his bottom. He handed the bottle back. "You look like shite, mate."

"And this surprises you?" Ron snarled. "Would you be doing alright if someone took Si or…or Bryony away from you?"

"No." Harry admitted lowering his head. "Of course not."

"Then why don't you keep your opinions to yourself?" He thrust his fingers through his hair and gripped the strands tight. "Merlin help me. Did you hear her crying, Harry? She was crying for me and I couldn't go to her. Why did you have to stop me? Why?"

"Because, Hermione told me to."

Ron pressed the pads of his hands into his eyes as he shook his head. "I can't believe you did that. You're suppose to be my friend."

"I am. But Hermione knows what she's doing."



"Really?" Ron dropped his hands. "Does she? Because from where I'm sitting, I highly doubt that." The redhead took another swig from the bottle. "I should have let Winnie Edgecombe handle the case."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" Ron drew his knees up and rested his wrists across them, gripping the bottle so it dangled from his finger tips. "Where is she anyway?"

"Winnie?"

"No. Hermione."

"Oh. I imagine she's at the Ministry filling out forms for appeal."

"Miss ready for anything wasn't ready for this?"

"She didn't think she was going to lose. Neither did I for that matter. She built a solid case, Ron. There's no explanation for what happened?

"And yet, Blake is still in the hands of Death Eaters instead of here with me."

"We're working on that."

"That's not good enough." Ron pounded a fist against his knee. "We have to do something? Now. Before it's too late. "

"Ron, there is nothing we can do. This is out of our hands now. The only person who can help us is Hermione and I know she's doing everything she can. You just have to trust her."

"I tried that once and look how that turned out."

"Then try it again. Hermione has never let us down in the past. I refuse to believe she'll let this be the first time. You just have to trust her."

Ron lowered his eyes and looked away.

Harry sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hermione told me I'm suppose to bring you to the Burrow and…"

"I'm not going." Ron thrust the bottle in Harry's hands before struggling to his feet.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not."

Harry climbed to his feet as well. "Look, Hermione told me to get you to the Burrow and to keep you there until she arrives."

"All the more reason not to go."



"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing. "I thought…"

"Never mind." Ron turned away. "Forget I said anything."

"No." Harry grabbed Ron's shoulder and forced him back around. "I want to know what you meant by that."

Shaking Harry's hand off Ron turned back to the cot and leaned forward bracing his hands on the rail. "I just don't want Fred to be right."

"What does Fred have to do with this?"

"Nothing. Everthing. It's just something he said to me. If I see her again before I calm down there's no telling what I might say. And…"

"Say no more." Harry nodded. "I understand. You've always been somewhat of a hot head where she's concerned. I was just waiting for this side of your relationship to make an appearance. Be that as it may, I still have to take you to the Burrow." He leaned his elbows on the cot rail next to Ron.

"And why is it so damn important I go with you to the Burrow?"

"Because if I don't get you there and keep you there Hermione threatened to jinx my bits off."

Ron's lips twitched faintly in the corners. "Sorry mate, not my problem."

Harry nudged him with his shoulder. "It will be when Ginny finds out why they're gone."

"Oi, Potter." Ron looked at him with disgust. "No."

Harry smirked. "So, are you coming willingly or am I going to have to bind and gag you?"

Ron sighed. "I really don't want to see them right now."

"But they're your family. They want to be there for you."

"Exactly," Ron turned and swiped the bottle from Harry. "I can barely stand myself right now. If I have to put up with hours of apologies and empty words of encouragement I'll go mad."

"Look, Ron," Harry put a hand on his mates shoulder. "I promise I'll make the family leave you alone. We won't talk about what happened today. And maybe we can even play a game of Quidditch. You know, help keep your mind off things for a while. And if that doesn't work, you and I will go out later and get royally pissed."

"Can't we skip right to the royally pissed part?"

"I think you've already had enough of a head start." Harry grabbed the bottle again and set it aside. "Come on, you can't avoid them forever."



"I can try."

"You do realize," Harry said, trying a new tactic, "that if you don't come with me to the Burrow, they'll all be coming to see you here. And this house isn't as big as the Burrow. It'll be harder to hide."

After several minutes of internal debate Ron turned to face Harry. "You'll make them leave me alone?"

"I'll do everything in my power."

"Fine. Let's just get this over with."

The moment Ron arrived in the Burrow's garden he wished he was back at home. His siblings and their spouses instantly fell silent at the sight of him. Some shifted awkwardly while others tried to avoid looking at him all together.

"Uncle Ron." Barron instantly freed himself from his mothers grasp and threw himself at Ron's legs. "Up, Uncle Ron." He demanded. "Up."

"Barron," Fleur hurried forward. "Come. Leave Uncle Ron alone."

"No," Ron put a hand out to stop her when she began to draw her son away. "That's alright. I think this might be what I need." He crouched down so he was at Barron's height. "Hello Little Man." He opened his arms and scooped Barron up in a strong hug. He set him back on his feet and tussled his hair. "So master Barron, what do you want to do?"

Barron scrunched his eyes up in thought. "Color."

"Did you bring your crayons with you?"

"Yes." The little boy nodded eagerly.

"You did?" Ron said overly bright. "Right then. Let's say you and me go inside and draw some pictures."

His face growing bright with excitement, Barron hurried towards the house and his toy bag which Fleur had left near the front door.

Ron straightened to his full height. His eyes made a slow search of the garden. "Would anyone else like to come and draw with me and Master Barron?" There were several nods as the older of the Weasley grandchildren left their parents sides to cluster around Ron. Reaching down he took two small hands and gently turned them towards the house.

"Ronnie," Molly made to stop him, taking a step forward when he drew near. "I really think…"

With one curt shake of the head Ron stopped her. "Not now, Mum." And he walked past her into the house.

* * *

Carbonell glanced up when the door to the dining room opened. His wife stepped inside, an annoyed expression marring her sculpted face. "Finally, you got the brat to shut up."

Melantha slid into her chair at the opposite end of the table as her husband. "I put a muffling charm on her."

Carbonell rolled his eyes. "Are they suppose to cry that much?"

"How would I know?" she lifted her goblet to her lips and drank deep of the dark red liquid. "Promise me we'll never have one of those."

"Why did you agree to take her if you didn't want her?"

Melantha sighed heavily as she set down her goblet. "I've already explained this to you. Malacar told me too."

"He can't tell you what to do anymore. In case you've forgotten, he's in prison now. He has no say in your life anymore."

"He's the head of my family."

"_I'm_ the head of _your_ family. You do what I tell you."

Melantha rolled her eyes. "Calm yourself sweetheart. We won't have to put up with her for very long."

"Yes well, what are we going to do with her afterwards?"

Melantha shrugged dismissively. "Does it really matter?" She looked at her husband from beneath arched brows. "Don't tell me you actually care about the child."

"Merlin, no." He straightened in his seat. "I just don't want to give anyone anymore reason to come after us. That blood-traitor looked ready to kill today."

Melantha reached lazily for her knife and fork. "Wasn't that part of the objective? Punish him for what he did to my brother while distracting him while we make our escape? Plus that, there'd always the added bonus of watching him squirm. Weasle bating is fun. We should have tried it years ago. What's the matter dear?"

Carbonell was staring over her shoulder at the closed door, his eyes narrowed. "Did you hear something?"

"No. Why?"

He shook his head before leaning back in his chair. "It was probably just the elf."

"Hmm," Melantha had turned in her seat and was staring intently at the door. "You don't think Weasley'll try and come here and get her?"

"Normally I wouldn't put in past him, but I don't think he'll risk the wrath of that mud-blood bitch he hired."

"Perhaps we should make sure." She put her hands on the armrest of her chair preparing to rise but Carbonell ordered her back to her seat.

"Stop being paranoid. I'm sorry I said anything. We haven't had a proper meal since this whole thing started. Now sit down, shut your mouth, and eat."

Glaring at her husband, Melantha cut into the slice of steak and kidney pie waiting on her plate. She swallowed several mouthfuls before she ventured to speak again. "How long do you think the transfer will take?"

"If everything goes right, a few days, week at the most."

"We don't have a week."

"Do you trust me?"

"I hardly see…"

"Melantha," he said sternly, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then stop worrying."

She pushed a chunk of potato around her plate. "I don't want to go to Azkaban."

"Do you think I do?"

"Of course not. I only meant-" A floorboard in the hall creaked and Malantha whipped her head around. "Alright. I heard that."

Carbonell pushed back his chair. "So did I."

Together the couple rose to their feet, drawing their wands out of their pockets. Carbonell took the lead, Malantha falling into step behind him. He wrenched open the door and hurried into the darkened hallway. "They have the baby." He yelled, spotting a hooded figure at the end of the hall, the Blythe baby strapped to their back. He took aim and cast a stunning spell. The figure ducked underneath the beam of light, and broke out in a run. Malantha and Carbonell took chase, casting spells and jinxes as soon as the last spell left their wand.

The front door was forced open by the intruder and was blasted off its hinges a moment later by a stray spell. "Don't hit the baby!" Melantha screamed as shards of wood exploded into the room. "We need her."

The figure dashed through the door and down the front steps. "Stop!" Screamed Carbonell. "Stop him! Don't let him get beyond the border!"

Melantha was forced to jump aside as the hooded figure began to throw spells at them over the shoulder. In the faint moonlight they could see the baby's face screwed up in fright, cheeks red, fat tears rolling down her face as she cried in silent fury. With a last burst of speed the adult and child crossed the border with a sudden whoosh were gone.

Melantha and Carbonell arrived where the two had disappeared, faces writhe with anger. "Tell me that did not just happen."

Melantha looked over at her husband. "How did he get in? I thought you warded the place."

"I did."

"Obviously not good enough."

"Melantha, shut up unless you have an idea of what the hell we're going to do."

"We go after him. Bring her back."

Carbonell stared at the ground where they had disappeared, the wheels in his head quickly turning. "Fuck it. Let him have her."

Melantha rolled her eyes. "We need her to make the transaction. They won't let us do it without her."

Carbonell growled with frustration. Whirling around he began to blast the rocks, trees and shrubs that lined the drive. When the dust began to settle it was to find Melantha with her hands on her hips glaring at him. "Do you feel better now?"

"Not really." He jabbed his wand into his trouser pocket. "Alright. I guess we go after her ourselves and…"

"Or," her lips split into a smile, "report him to his precious Ministry. This is perfect. What an idiot. He had to know we would know it was him."

"He never was very bright."

"That mud-bloods going to go mental when she learns what he did."

"Right." Carbonell stepped into pacing. "This could defiantly work to our advantage. Melantha, you go floo the Ministry, I'll wait for them here."

"I don't know this is such a good idea."

"There isn't time to argue." The carrier was unstrapped from one back and put on the other. The child was stunned to make her look like she was asleep then her features transfigured to make her look more 

like her new carrier. Task done, the wand was slipped inside a shoulder bag. "Everything you need is in here." The strap was slipped over the others shoulder and settled into place.

"Are you sure…"

"It has to work. The Ministry is still so close minded, they'll never think to look for you the Muggle way. Now go."

"But…"

"Go!" The pair was pushed towards the waiting taxi. "Don't contact me. Wait for me to contact you." As soon as adult and child were seated the door was closed and their destination given to the driver. The hooded figure waited until the taxi was out of sight before thrusting a hand into one of the robes pockets. Seconds later the figure disappeared as well.

* * *

"Ronnie." Molly stuck her head through the door to the family sitting room. "Ronnie? Barron?" Molly knelt beside her oldest grandchild, placing a hand gently on his back. "Where is Uncle Ron?"

Barron, who was lying on his stomach, a bright blue crayon clutched in his hand, tongue stuck out in concentration. He looked up at Molly. "He said he be back."

"Where did he go?"

"Up."

"Up?"

Barron nodded and pointed his finger towards the staircase.

"Ron?" Molly left the children and moved towards the bottom of the stairs. "Ronnie?"

"Coming." He rounded the upper landing and hurried down the steps to where Molly was waiting.

"What were you doing up there?"

Ron straightened his robes. "Toilet."

"Oh. It's time to eat."

"If it's all the same to you," he stepped past her and reseated himself on the floor next to Barron, "I'm not very hungry."

"I didn't expect you would be." She stepped up beside Ron and gently rubbed her fingers through his hair. "However, I'm certain your sisters would prefer their children eat. So why don't you come and join us."

Ron looked for a moment like he would object, but nodded instead. "Come on midgets." He said, getting to his feet. "Nana says it's time to eat."

With Molly's help the crayons were soon packed away and the children were moving towards the back garden. Parents claimed their offspring at the stoop and the group was soon settled around the expanded table. When the last child was seated there were only two spots left. Feeling that he was being reduced to the level of a child, Ron took his seat placed conveniently next to Molly's, relieved at least that Harry was on his other side. The feeling of being treated like a child grew worse when Molly took up his plate and began filling it for him.

"Mum," he placed a firm hand on hers. "Stop."

"I just want…'

"I know." He said over her. "And I appreciate it, but please stop."

"Alright." Sensing Ron's need for normalcy, she placed his half filled plate in front of him before turning and throwing herself into a conversation with Arthur over the state of the back garden, his overflowing tool shed, and the need to clean out both it and the attic.

"You were with the children for a long time." Harry said as he filled his plate.

"They don't look they're going to cry every time they look at me. Or avoid my eyes, afraid I'm going to break down if they say the wrong thing."

"I thought we were going to play Quidditch."

"Hmmm, maybe after we eat."

"You seem distracted."

Ron pushed his plate away. "Do I?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." Ron lowered his voice and leaned in so only Harry could hear. "You don't think I'm actually going to leave her in their hands for long, do you?"

"Ron, what you're suggesting is illegal."

"What? Are you going to turn me in?"

"You know I wouldn't. But Ron, if you get caught…"

"I'll be well out of the country before anyone knows what's happened."

"You would do that?" Harry shook his head with amazement. "You would give up everything? Throw your life away? Your friends? Your family? Your job? Hermione?"

"I can't leave Blake with them. I just can't."

"Well I still think you should let Hermione handle this. If you go through with what you're planning you'll be running for the rest of your life. You realize that?"

Ron nodded. "I do. But at least I won't be alone and Blake will be safe."

"Are you going to ask Hermione to go with you?"

Ron glanced at Fred before returning his focus to his untouched food. "I've been thinking about all my options since the verdict this afternoon."

"And?"

"And I can't lose either of my girls."

"Do you really think Hermione will be willing to go with you?"

"I don't know. I hope so. I have to at least ask her."

"That's asking a lot."

"I know." He agreed.

"I got to be honest, Ron, I don't think I would go with you If I were her. Especially after the way you treated her today."

Ron glanced down the table at Fred who seemed to be watching him with narrowed eyes and felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Fred leaned forward as he reached for the bowl of mash. "What are you two talking about?" He asked as he scooped a huge mound onto his plate.

"Quidditch." Harry lied easily. He leaned back in his seat and took up his glass. "We were just discussing the Cannon's chances of winning any games this season."

"Yeah," Ron said facing the table. "I was just telling Harry the Cannons have to win at least a few matches this season."

"How do you recon?" Bill asked.

Ron shrugged. "Well, something has to go right for me eventually, doesn't it?"

Silence hung heavy over the table, no one knowing exactly how to respond to that.

"No." Ginny straightened in her seat, shaking her head firmly. "Not a chance. I've been telling you for years Ron, you support the wrong team."

Ron's lips softened into a half-smile with gratitude. "What can I say?" he held up his hands. "I always root for the underdogs."

"Yeah," George agreed with a laugh, "But there are other underdog teams you could support who aren't quite so…"

"Under?" Fred offered when his twin seemed unable to find the word he was looking for.

"Yeah, Fred." George rolled his eyes. "That's what I meant to say. Support an underdog team that isn't quite so _under_. It's a good thing I have you around. Otherwise I might sound like an idiot."

"You see," Fred toasted him. "You'd be lost without me. I am the smarter half of our duo."

George nodded. "And it's probably a good idea you keep telling yourself that."

"That's enough you two." Molly said, glaring at her sons. "And the rest of you. You've hardly touched your food. Dig in, there's plenty for everyone."

Before anyone could move the garden was filled with the loud cracks that announced arrival by appiration. Several witches and wizards dressed in official Auror robes now stood in the garden, wands drawn. Ron lurched to his feet when he saw Roland Greene amongst them and quickly hurried across the lawn to join him. Harry soon followed. "Where is she, Ron?" Harry heard Roland ask when he stepped in beside them.

"Where is who?"

"Ron, don't do this. If you give her back now I might be able to swing this so you don't lose your job."

"Roland, I have no idea what you're talking about?"

Roland sighed, shaking his head. "I'm talking about Blake. Where is she?"

"What do you mean where is she? I lost the case Roland. Those _Death Eaters_ have her."

"Are you trying to tell me she's not here?"

"Of course she's not here. Why would think that?"

"What's going on Roland?" Harry asked. "What's happened?"

"Harry?" Greene stuck out his hand to take his. "It's nice to see you again. I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid your friend has gotten himself into a bit of trouble."

"Ron," Harry turned to his friend, "what's going on?"

Roland looked meaningfully at the redhead. "Do you care to tell him, or should I?"



"Roland, I would gladly tell him if I knew what in the hell you were talking about, but seeing as I don't…" His eyes narrowed. "Why did you think Blake was here?"

"Would you consent to letting the Betas search the house and grounds?"

Ron shook his head. "No. Go ahead. I have nothing to hide."

Roland nodded to one of the robed figures standing a few feet away and some of the members disengaged from the rest and moved towards the house.

"Roland, please, tell me what this is all about."

The older man turned back to Ron. "We're investigating a kidnapping."

"A kidnapping? Who do you think …"Ron's eyes rounded in horror. "Blake? Blake is missing?"

"Ron, calm down."

"Blake is missing?" Ron said again, panic forcing his voice to a higher pitch. "For how long? What did they do to her?" Roland stared quietly at Ron, a sad expression on his round face. "You think I had something to do with it." Ron said with realization. "That's insane."

"You're the only person with motivation."

"Maybe. But don't you think that if I'd done it I would be long gone by now, not waiting around for you lot to show up and take me in?"

"So you admit you have motive."

"I can hardly deny it. You saw me in the courtroom. You knew I was trying to adopt her."

"Where did you go after the hearing?"

"Does that really matter?"

"Ron," Roland frowned at him. "Stop giving me a hard time. Where were you?"

"Here, alright? I've been here all evening. So I could not have possible done it."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"Yes." Harry said crossing his arms firmly over his chest. "I've been with him all evening. And if my words not enough there are ten other adults here who have been looking in on him all night."

"Looking in on him?" Greene asked.

Harry's face flushed slightly when Ron glared at him. "He's been watching the children. They were drawing pictures."

Roland watched Ron with disbelief. "Drawing pictures. What are you four years old?"

"Lay off Greene," Ron snarled. "I was spending time with my nieces and nephews, trying to forget the hell I've been through. To try and forget that my entire life is going to hell around me. Is that too much to ask? "

Roland shifted his weight uncomfortably from his right foot to his left. "Ron, do you swear it wasn't you?"

"Yes." He threw up his hands. "I swear it wasn't me. Now can we get back to what's really important here? What are we going to do about Blake?"

"Not so fast Ron. I wish I could say that's all it takes, but you've got yourself into some real trouble here. We're going to need you all to come in and give statements and we're going to have to test your wand."

"There's no need for that." The three men turned in time to see Parker dissolving back into existence. "I can also vouch for him. He's been here all evening."

"Parker?" Ron gapped. "What are you doing here?"

Parker turned an apologetic look on his friend. "I've been watching you, of course."

"Would you mind telling me why you thought I needed a Nanny?"

"It was Hermione's idea. She asked me to come here and watch you, you know, just in case."

Ron stared at his two friends his face expressionless. "Does no one trust me anymore? For Merlin's sake! I'm not stupid."

"No one said you were." Harry tried to sooth.

"I've gotten on just fine the past five years without people watching every move I make."

"Look, we know you can take care of yourself." Harry assured him. "You just..."

"You've just been short on patience lately." Parker finished.

"Parker!"

"No Harry, he has to hear this. Ron, you've changed. Everyone's noticed. You're not the same man that I trusted and admired. You've lost your edge. You're confidence. You're not focused on the job anymore. And I understand that, I do. But you're not thinking like yourself. You've become rash and impulsive and we were worried that you would rush off and do something like this without thinking it through. That's not like you."

"Actually, I think it's exactly like me. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of being rational. Blake is missing and we have to find her. Roland, you have to let me talk to the Javeds. I don't trust them. They did something to her, I know it."

"Ron, they're the ones who reported her missing."

"It's all a part of their plan." Ron turned and began to pace. "You have to let me talk to them. If anyone can make them talk I can."

"Ron," Roland said, a hint of hesitancy in his voice. "You're not on this case."

The tall redhead froze mid-step. He slowly turned to face Roland, his face a blank mask. "What do you _mean_ I'm not on this case?"

"Jillian Oldham and her team are handling it."

"The Betas?" Ron snapped. "No. I want the Alphas on it."

"That's not your call."

"Then make it my call. I want my team on this case."

"I'm sorry Ron. You know Ministry protocol. You're too close."

"That hasn't stopped me before." He argued.

"Yes, but you've never been suspected of committing the crime before."

"You still think I had something to do with this?"

"We have to cover all possibilities."

"Roland!"

"Ron," the older man shook his head, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but rules are rules. Parker," he motioned the younger man over. "Can I trust you to escort Captain Weasley to the Ministry?"

"What for?" Ron shook of Roland's hand.

"Questioning."

"This is ridiculous. I haven't done anything."

"Oldham." Greene turned away from Ron when he spotted the Beta Captain quickly approaching. "What did you find?"

"Nothing sir." Jillian Oldham came to a stop at their side, hands clasped behind her back. "The house is empty. No sign of the child."

"Now do you believe me?" Ron snarled. "I told you I didn't have her. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"Ron," Harry grabbed his arm. "You can't leave yet."

Ron looked down to where Harry's fingers gripped his arm. "Are you really going to try and hold me back again?"

"Hermione said to stay here until she arrived."

"_Granger_?" Roland asked, a single brow arched. "She sent you here?"

"Apparently."

"Why do you think she did that?"

"That's easy," Parker said. "She wanted to make sure Ron didn't do anything stupid."

"Or," Roland said slowly, "to ensure he had an alibi. Oldham." He snapped his fingers at the Beta captain. "Track down Ms Granger and bring her in."

"What?" Ron looked surprised. "What does Hermione have to do with any of this?"

"I don't know. And that's what we're going to find out."

As suddenly as he had appeared, Rolland Greene was gone.

Ron's mouth gapped open. "What the hell just happened?"

Harry shook his head dumbly. "I think we might have got Hermione in trouble."


	20. Jillian Oldham

So I realize you must all completely loath me by this point, and believe me, I don't blame you, it's been far too long since I last updated. But you see, I just couldn't seem to get this chapter right. I couldn't figure out what was wrong for the longest time but I think I might have finally got it. So instead of making you all wait as I agonize over it for a few more days as I am inclined to do without really changing it anyway, I thought I would take my chances and post it. I do hope that you all forgive me my tardiness and that you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think. As always, Happy Reading, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty: Jillian Oldham

It was almost comical, Jillian Oldham decided as she and her team moved down the hall. With the lateness of the hour the Ministry should have been nearly empty, but witches and wizards kept appearing from behind closed office doors, stopping their work long enough to watch their progression.

Jillian shook her head with disgust. These people were insane. Who would stay and work longer then they had to? Bunch of office crazed workaholics, she decided as she moved on.

They were getting close to the law offices now. The outer office was empty but she knew she had found her target when she spotted the soft light seeping from beneath the closed office door.

Jillian took her place at the front of her team. She leaned her back against the wall, pulled her wand and motioned the rest of her squad to do the same. Jillian closed her eyes, holding her wand close to her nose. A cool shiver of anticipation crept down her spine. She was going to enjoy this.

Giving the signal, she flung open the door and rushed into the small office.

Hermione jumped with surprise as the door banged heavily against the wall, knocking a frame off its peg. "Captain Oldham." The brunette looked up, mild surprise evident on her face. Her brown eyes scanned the room quickly taking in the team of Aurors and their wands steadily trained on her. She rose gracefully to her feet and extended her hand. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Jillian stared at the extended hand until Hermione uncomfortably withdrew it. "I think we both know why I'm here."

Hermione scanned the room once more, her eyes wide. "I'm afraid I don't. Have I been assigned to one of your cases?" She asked hopefully, staring uneasily at the closest wand.

Jillian snorted. "Something like that." Though she lowered her wand the rest of her team stayed at attention. She took a moment to scan the office, noting the stack of papers and files on either side of her desk as well as the legal pad and open file in front of her. "Working late this evening?"

"Not so late."Hermione glanced at the clock she had personally mounted on the wall, her eyes widening and her mouth rounding in surprise. "Oh." She lowered her eyes to the open files. "I didn't realize so much time had passed. I'll have to floo Mrs Weasley in the morning to make my apologies." She flipped 

the cover of her current file closed. She chuckled humorlessly. "I suppose in this case it's a good thing I did miss. I'm sure I'm the last person the Weasleys want to see tonight."

"Why is that?"

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Are you unaware of what happened today? I lost the Weasleys there case. I doubt I'm their favorite person right now."

"Captain Potter said you instructed him to meet you at the Burrow with Captain Weasley."

Hermione's brow arched. "I'd hardly call it instructed. It was more a request."

"And why would you make such a _request_?"

Hermione's brow creased with apprehension. "What is this about?"

"Just answer the question Ms Granger."

Hermione deftly shook her head. "Not until you tell me why you're questioning me? What exactly have I done?"

"Why did you ask Harry Potter to keep Ronald Weasley occupied at the Burrow?"

Hermione stared at her, wide eyed, arms crossed over her chest.

"Ms Granger," Jillian growled with frustration, "Please don't make this any more difficult. You know why we're here. Tell us what you did with her."

Hermione continued to stare at her a moment before turning her head to gaze defiantly at the wall.

Jillian took a step forward. "You must know that remaining quiet isn't going to help your case."

Hermione shook with quiet laughter. "I've used that one enough times to know not to fall for it. I'm not an unreasonable person Captain Oldham. I'll gladly answer all the questions I can _after _you tell me what I'm being questioned for."

Jillian scowled at Hermione with distaste. For several minutes her internal debate was evident on her face. "The Blythe Baby," she finally said through gritted teeth. "She's missing."

Surprise flashed across Hermione's features for a moment before her mask of professionalism was back in place. "I can't say that I'm surprised. I knew something like this was going to happen if the Javeds gained custody."

"You mean you were planning it?"

Hermione glared at the other woman. "No. I mean what else did you expect to happen when you handed her over to a pair of Death Eaters?"

"You think the Javeds are behind it?"

"Let's say I wouldn't put it past them."

"Unfortunately for your theory that seems highly unlikely as the Javeds were the ones who reported the child missing."

Hermione nodded appreciatively. "A smart move on their part. Throws suspicion of them."

"And onto you."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Me?" he voice was laced with a hint of amusement.

"You seem surprised."

"Shouldn't I?" Hermione asked. "How could you possibly think I would have anything to do with it?"

"You have motive and lack of alibi."

"Lack if alibi?" She asked incredulously. "I've been here all evening." She glanced at the stack of files to her right. "These files don't go through themselves."

"Why here so late?"

"I've gotten behind on my cases. I wanted to try and catch up a little before I had to focus on the retrial."

"Can anyone verify your story?"

"You can check with my assistant. I'm not sure when she left, but it's the best I can do."

"You're not sure when she left?"

"She's my assistant, not my child. She doesn't have to ask my permission to leave."

"Her name?" Jillian barked.

"Ramilda Vane."

"Johnson." Jillian snapped her fingers and a man standing near the door stepped forward. "See if you can locate Ms Vane. See what she has to say about Ms Granger's story. As for you," she returned her focus to Hermione. "I'll need you to hand over your wand for examination. You'll also have to come with us to the Aurors office for further questioning."

"A lack of alibi is hardly enough to accuse me with."

"I'm not accusing you of anything…yet. It just seems highly suspicious to me."

"What does?"

"Everything. From your relationship with the Weasleys to the fact that you're one of the only people involved in this case intelligent enough to actually pull it off."

"That's not very much to be bringing me in for."

"I don't need more than that."

"This is preposterous." Hermione threw up her hands.

"Maybe." She shrugged. "But I'll still need you to hand over your wand and come with me."

For a moment it seemed like Hermione would ignore Jillian and the rest of the Betas. She stared down at her unfinished paperwork with a thoughtful expression on her face. Breathing out through her nose she took up her wand from where she had left it on her desk, causing the Aurors to tighten their grip on their own wands in response. Shaking her head she turned it over so that she held it the wrong way. She held out the instrument and waited for one of the Betas to take it. She quickly stacked her files in a neat pile before coming around the side of her desk.

Jillian looked on in surprise as her team led Hermione quietly from her own office. From all that she had heard Hermione Granger had a wild temper, was quick to argue and was stubborn as all hell when she thought she was right. She had expected to spend the next half hour listening to Hermione list all the reasons she could not possibly be guilty.

Jillian shifted uneasily from one foot to the other as the last of her team left the office. She had to be up to something. Some plot she had concocted to get herself out of trouble. Jillian sneered. They were all alike. The three of them. Using their popularity to get away with murder, or in this case kidnapping. And the worst part was that the rest of the wizarding community was so infatuated with them that they would go ahead and let them get away with it.

Jillian squared her shoulders. Well not her. She was certain Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley had plotted together to kidnap the Blythe Baby. Now she just needed to prove it. A smile slipped across her lips. How she savored the idea of taking down one of the members of the Golden Trio. It didn't happen very often and never to Ms Hermione Granger. She relished the idea of being the first.

* * *

"Harry?" Ginny sat up the moment she heard the faint pop of appiration. "Harry?" She called again as she pulled open the door to the foyer. Ginny's shoulders sagged with momentary relief when she spotted the familiar outline of her husband in the darkened hallway.

"Gin." Harry turned at the sound of her voice. He quickly crossed the gap between them and took her in his arms, holding her tight, tucking his face into the curve of her shoulder. He breathed deep, inhaling the sweet floral scent that was distinctly her, letting the scent calm him.

Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry, hugging him back with all her might. Her eyes fell closed as Harry momentarily lifted her off the ground, drawing her nearer.

"When was the last time you checked on Si and Bryony?" He drew back enough that he could look down at her. His eyes darted to the stairs and back. "Are they all right?"

"They're fine." Ginny placed a hand on his cheek, trying to draw his face back to her. "I looked in on them half an hour ago."

Harry's jaw stiffened beneath her fingertips. His eyes clouded with uncertainty as he pulled away from her. He released her long enough to take her hand then pulled her insistently behind him as he climbed the stairs.

"Harry," Ginny tried to tug her hand free. "Harry, you're scaring me."

"I just need to see them." He stopped in front of the door to the nursery. His hand hesitated on the handle a moment, terrified to open the door. Shoulders tense he eased it open and moved inside. He moved quietly across the darkened nursery and stopped at the side of the cot. He stared at Bryony for several silent moments, letting the sight of her help calm his frayed nerves. Reaching down, he gently ran a finger against the smooth curve of her cheek, stopping long enough to cup her face tenderly before slowly drawing away, careful not to make a noise.

Ginny waited for the nursery door to close. "They haven't found her then?" She asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not a trace."

"How is that even possible?" She asked as she followed Harry down the hall to Si's room. "How do you _lose_ a baby?"

"She isn't lost, Gin." Harry opened the door. "She was taken." He said in a hushed voice. "Which is even worse."

The last of his anxiety left his body when he found his son fast asleep, one fist curled tight around his blanket, the other with the thumb stuck out near his mouth, still damp from being sucked. Harry crept forward until he was standing over Si's crib. Smiling tenderly he reached down and ran his fingers gently through his son's tuft of soft black hair.

He closed his eyes on a sigh as Ginny slipped her arms around his waist from behind. He settled his hands over hers to hold her in place, reluctant to let her go. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. "They're fine, Harry." She whispered, as much for her own benefit as his. Her fingers gripped tight at his chest. "We won't let anything happen to them."

Harry shook his head as he slowly backed out of the room, forcing Ginny with him. "I'm sorry Gin." He said when the door was closed. "I knew you were all here, and that you were fine. But I…I just needed to make certain. I had to _know_."

Ginny turned Harry in her arms and eased his head down until his face was close enough she could look him directly in the eyes. She ran her fingers soothingly through his hair. "It's all right, Harry." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "We're all here. We're all safe. Everything is going to be all right."

Harry shook his head. "How could this happen?" He pulled her closer until her bones ached. "I don't understand. What kind of person would kidnap a child? There's no trace of her Gin. It's like she vanished into thin air."

"This _is_ the wizarding world." She said logically.

"Yes, but all magic leaves a trace. If the kidnapper used magic we should be able to track them. And from the report the Javeds gave she was definitely taken by a wizard."

Ginny stared absently over Harry's shoulder, a deep frown on her face. "Harry? You don't think the Javeds…" She couldn't bear to finish the thought.

"No." Harry shook his head confidently. "They wouldn't have worked so hard to get her if they only meant to get rid of her."

"But what if that was the plan all along?" she persisted.

"I doubt it."

"But you don't know."

Harry sighed heavily. "To be honest Gin, I don't know anything anymore. Oldham's not letting me anywhere near this case. All I keep hearing is I'm too close. I'm too close. What the hell does that even mean? Who cares how close I am to the case if I find Blake and bring her back?"

"I don't know." Ginny frowned. "If they won't let you near the case, why were you at the Ministry for so long?"

Harry ran his fingers through the long strands of Ginny's hair. "I was waiting for them to release Ron and Hermione."

"They cleared them?"

"Not exactly."

Ginny arched a brow. "What do you mean, not exactly?"

"From what I could gather Ron and Hermione are still their top suspects. They had to release Ron because they didn't have enough evidence to hold him but they're keeping Hermione for more questioning."

Ginny huffed indignantly. "This is ridiculous." She turned and marched away, not bothering to see if Harry followed. "How they can suspect either Ron or Hermione…it's just absurd. Ron was with us all evening, when would he have had the chance? And Hermione…" Ginny rolled her eyes. "It would almost be laughable if they didn't already have her locked up."

She pushed open the door to their bedroom and stormed angrily inside, pulling her robes off without bothering to undo the clasps. She threw the garment at the hamper uncaring that it landed on the ground just short of its mark. Ginny turned and paced, hands planted firm on her hips. "Where is Ron anyway? He shouldn't be alone right now." She caught Harry's eye. "How is he?"

"Devastated." Harry acknowledged.

"Then why didn't you bring him home?" She growled with frustration.

"I tried," Harry said picking up her robe and tossing it in the hamper. "Honest I did. He refused to come. He said he needed to be alone, but…"

Ginny frowned considerately. "Maybe you should go and stay with him."

Harry shook his head again. "I offered." He sank onto the foot of their bed. "He told me not to be stupid and to go home and spend time with my wife and children."

"You shouldn't have let him go alone."

"He would have hexed me if I had tried and follow. He was serious about me coming home to be with Si and Bryony." He rubbed wearily at his face. "I suppose that's why I'm so on edge. He's got me thinking they're going to disappear any minute just like Blake."

Ginny froze, sudden terror contorting her face. "Do you really think someone is after Si and Bryony?" She took an unconscious step towards the door.

"I didn't say that." Harry rushed to his feet and grabbed her before she made it to the door. "No one's getting to them, Gin. I promise." He pulled her into his arms once again and crushed her painfully to his chest. "No one is taking my family away from me again."

Ginny closed her eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder. "Harry, someone already has."

* * *

"Are we going to sit here and stare at each other again all afternoon?"

"That depends on you." Jillian tapped her nails against the ancient table top. "Are you going to cooperate this afternoon?"

"I have been cooperative." Hermione said exasperatedly. "I just can't give you the answers you want."

Jillian Oldham leaned back in her seat and watched Hermione intently. She was a stubborn witch, she had to give her that. They had kept her in isolation for the past three days, interrogated her heavily using all their most productive tactics but she still hadn't changed her story.

But despite her story that she was in the Ministry all evening, something, sadly, her wand analysis only helped confirm, all other evidence they managed to gather pointed at Hermione Granger as the most likely perpetrator of the Blythe Baby kidnapping. Firstly, she was on first name bases with Ronald Weasley and the rest of his family. Of course she would be considering they had been best friends for 

most of her wizarding life. Secondly, she had close connections to the case Thirdly, she had made certain Ronald Weasley had a concrete alibi for the time of the kidnapping. Fourthly, and most condemningly, she had a firm knowledge of Auror law and protocol, which she undoubtedly used to her benefit not to get caught. It was almost ironic that that which made her appear the most guilty was what kept her free of a conviction. There was simply not enough evidence to condemn her. All they really had was a week alibi that could have easily been orchestrated.

But despite the lack of evidence there was something in Jillian's gut that was telling her Hermione Granger was the mastermind behind the child's disappearance, and she wasn't going to stop until she proved it.

"Are we through?"

Jillian observed Hermione objectively. To the untrained eye Hermione Granger made every appearance of being innocent. Calm and collected, very polite. But Jillian, who had quite a bit of experience questioning suspects, thought she was just a little _too_ calm and collected for a person being investigated not to mention the answers she gave came just a little _too _readily for someone who hadn't prepared them before hand.

"No." Jillian leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table top. "You're going to sit there until we get answers out of you."

Hermione looked coldly at the other woman. She shifted in her seat, crossing one leg defiantly over the other. "Then I recon we should both get comfortable."

Jillian perfected a similar pose to Hermione's. "I recon we should."

The two women locked gazes at the same time as their wills. Both were determined to stare the other one down, neither willing to break. The seconds ticked by on the lone clock adhered to the wall, blaringly loud in the otherwise silent room.

After several minutes had gone by with the deafening silence Hermione finally looked away and stared unseeingly at the wall. Feeling satisfaction that she hadn't been the first to break, Jillian uncrossed her leg and sat up in her chair, conjuring a pot of tea. "You must really care for him." She observed as she poured herself a cup, adding two lumps of sugar.

Hermione spared her only a moment's glance. "I must really care about who?"

"Ronald Weasley." Jillian tapped her spoon gently against the rim of her cup. "You're risking an awful lot to help him." She took a sip.

Hermione rolled her eyes before she refocused on the wall. "You should really get your facts straight, Captain Oldham."

"How do you mean?"

Hermione looked over at her, annoyance written clearly on her face. "If you had done your research you would know that Captain Weasley and I had a falling out and haven't been on speaking terms in over five years. Under those circumstances do you really think I would risk my honor or my reputation for _him_?"

"Stranger things have been known to happen."

"Not with me. I wouldn't risk everything, all that I've worked so hard for, for him. Especially not after the way he's treated me."

"So why did you help him? Why did you agree to take his case?"

"I've already told you." She huffed with frustration. "I took his case as a favor. Because once upon a time we used to be friends. Because his _mother _asked me. And do you know how he repaid me?" She leaned forward. "By blaming _me_ for what happened. He all but said _I _didn't do _my _job right. I did my job perfectly. It's not my fault Ceemist decided the way he did." Hermione sat back in her seat, arms crossed defiantly over her chest once again. "Just see if I ever help him again." She grumbled. "My fault in deed. I'd like to see him do better."

"You didn't like losing, did you?" Jillian asked.

"Not so much as I disliked the idea of facing Molly Weasley again. She expected me to get her granddaughter back and I failed her." Hermione lowered her chin. "She's doesn't do well with disappointment."

"Are you trying to tell me that you took Captain Weasleys case because his mother wanted you to?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It had a profound influence."

"And why was that?"

"Because," she sighed, "as much as it would pain my parents to hear this, Molly Weasley has been more of a mother to me since I started Hogwarts then my own mother was. It's not easy being a Muggleborn witch. My parents couldn't understand what I was going through. They couldn't be there for me the way I needed them to be. Mrs Weasley was always there for me when I needed her. I would do anything I can to repay her kindness."

"Including kidnapping a little girl?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. "I've already told you, kidnapping isn't my style. Applying to the court, rearguing my case. That's how I intended on getting Molly Weasley her granddaughter back."

"Your sentiment is sweet." Jillian pushed her chair back. "But this is getting us nowhere."

"Finally we agree on something." Hermione straightened in her seat. "When are you letting me out of here?"

"When you turn over that child, maybe we can _discuss_ whether or not I'll let you out."

Hermione slammed her hands down on the table. "You can't do this. You have no legal right to keep holding me. My wand was clean. You can't prove I wasn't at the Ministry and where would I have stashed her? There wouldn't have been time."

"Ms Granger, when are you going to learn? The people around here, we are the law. You'll get out when I say you will."

"But there are laws, regulations that were established after the fall of Voldemort to prevent things like this happening again. You can't just…"

"You're not in any position to tell me what I can and cannot do."

"When I get out of here…"

"Don't delude yourself, Ms Granger. Once we get the information we need it'll be a long time before you step outside prison walls again."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Jillian until they were tiny slits filled with anger and hate. "When I am released, I'll have your job."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. As cliché as it sounds, it's a promise. I didn't work as hard as I did, suffered like I have, or fought as long as I did to change our world so that people like you can abuse their power. When the Ministry hears how you've been treating me…"

"And it's all about you isn't it?" Jillian leaned her hands on the table. "The famous Golden Trio gets whatever they want. You think you deserve it. You think that we owe you everything for saving us. Power, position, promotions. You're all the same. You all think it's your due. Even if there _was_ someone there first. Someone who had more right to it. Someone who could have done it better. Well, not this time. You had no right to take that child. And I for one will make sure that you don't use your celebrity status to get away with it."

Hermione's eyes grew wide with understanding. "This isn't about the baby is it?" she moved forward to the edge of her seat. She stared with disbelief at the Beta Captain. "This is about revenge. What happened?" She watched Jillian's chin stiffen. "You said Harry, Ron and me take what we don't deserve. Power and promotions? Is that what happened? Were you passed over for a promotion by Harry or Ron? You were." Hermione realized when a vain appeared at the Beta Captain's temple and her jaw began to twitch. "You think that because they're Harry Potter and Ron Weasley they were unduly promoted?"

"I'm not the one under question, Ms Granger."

"Who's job did you want? Harry's or Ron's?"

"Ms Granger," The vein throbbed worse than ever.

Hermione ignored the warning. "Since you're the Beta captain I'll assume it was Ron's job you wanted. That makes sense. It explains why you're trying so hard to pin me and Ron to the crime."

"Not everything is about you." The woman shouted.

"I never said it was." She shot back. "You did."

Jillian Oldham pinned a fierce grimace on her lips. "You know what? Idon't have to stay here and listen to this nonsense. Unlike _some_ people, Iget to go home at the end of the day."

With that the Beta Captain banished the tea she had hardly touched and strode briskly towards the door.

"Did you ever consider," Hermione said when the other woman reached for her wand, "that perhaps Ronald Weasley got the position because he was better qualified?"

"Better qualified?" Jillian spun around. "I'd been doing this job for over twenty-six years when they passed me over. That job was promised to me until _he _came along and stole it. And please don't deceive yourself into thinking he makes a better Captain then me. I never would have botched that Blythe case the way he did. My team would have done everything possible to bring them in alive."

"Maybe. And how many Aurors do you think would have lost their life in the process? The truth of the matter is you don't have what it takes. I've done my research too you know. The Alphas are the best of the best. They handle the most volatile cases and for that reason need to be more aggressive. _And, _according to the Alpha team and the rest of your superiors, Ron is the best Captain that squad has ever had. So maybe _you_ need to stop deceiving _yourself_ and open _your_ eyes."

Jillian glared at Hermione with the upmost contempt. She tapped her wand angrily against the door and it sprung open. "Johnson." She waited for the younger Auror to appear at her side. "We're done. Escort Ms Granger back to her cell." The young Auror watched as his commanding officer strode briskly down the hall and disappeared around a corner. Shaking his head he turned back to the room and found Hermione still sitting in her seat, one leg folded over the other and arms crossed over her chest defiantly.

"Ms Granger." She looked up at the sound of her name. "If you'll come with me."

Hermione sunk lower in her seat, the lines in her face etching into a deeper scowl. "And if I refuse?"

Johnson shook his head. "You don't want to do that."

"No?" She glanced at him briefly before returning her focus to the wall. "Well I think I want to sit here until you let me go."

"I'm sorry Ms Granger, I can't do that." Red hot color flared in Hermione's cheeks. "Only the Captain can give that order."

Hermione turned in her seat to stare at the Auror. "Without something more incriminating then motive you can't keep me here. It's the law."

"Until the Captain gives the okay, my hands are tied."

Hermione rose slowly to her feet, the sparkle of fury in her eyes enough to make the man step back in alarm. "You Gabriel Johnson, are holding me here illegally. I know my rights. I know everything there is to know about British Wizarding Law. Which means when I finally get out of here you and the rest of your team will have to answer to me, and I'll make sure you lose your job."

"I'm not frightened of you, Ms Granger."

"Yes you are." The barest hint of a smile flitted across her lips. "I've always been told I'm scary when I set my mind to something."

"Hmmm." She couldn't tell if he was agreeing or disagreeing with her. "We'll see. Now, are you going to come with me nicely or are you going to fight me again?"

She tilted her head considerately to the side for a moment. She nodded. "I'll play nice." She glared at the hand reaching for her arm. "As long as you keep your hands off me." She wrenched her arm out of his reach.

Gabriel took a step back from her with his hands raised, fingers spread close to his face in a look of surrender. "Not a finger." He promised. "Unless you cause me trouble." He amended.

Hermione nodded. "Fair enough."

* * *

"Ron, would you knock that off." Harry looked down at his folded hands. "You're making me nervous."

Ron, who had been pacing the length of the room for the past fifteen minutes without fail, came to an immediate halt. He whirled around to face Harry, his eyes huge. "I thought you said there was nothing to worry about."

"I _did _say there was nothing to worry about. So why are you so nervous?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ron said snidely. "What could I possibly have to be nervous about? Blake? Hermione? My sanity?"

"Ron," Harry sighed. "I swear, everything is going to be fine."

Ron glared at his best friend. "You can keep telling me that, but it's not going to make me feel any better." He turned and started pacing again, back and forth between one wall and the other. Felling the stress starting to gather behind his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to relieve the headache he could feel forming. "Is this my fault, Harry?"

Harry sat up. "Is what you're fault?"

"This." He nodded at the room around them. "Hermione? Blake? All of it?"

"Don't be stupid." Harry bowed his head, removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.

"Do you think I was asking for too much?"

"What do you mean?" He slipped his glasses back on before returning his focus to the redhead.

Ron turned about, "I was this close, Harry." He held up his thumb and forefinger, a small space between them. "This close to having it all. The job I always wanted, the little girl I adored, the love of my life. Now look at me. I've lost it all. I asked for too much."

"Firstly," Harry pushed to his feet and crossed the few steps that separated them, "You have lost neither your job nor Hermione. You're just temporarily separated from her. Two, Blake might be missing but that doesn't mean you've lost her completely. And three, there is no such thing as asking for too much. You deserve all of it. You've worked hard for it. Now," he placed his hands firmly on Ron's shoulders. "I need you to relax and stay calm. We're going to see Hermione in a few minutes and then _maybe_ we'll be able to get to the bottom of this."

Ron stared silently at Harry for several minutes. "How do you think she's doing?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"It's only been a few days. I'm certain she's fine."

"Harry," his eyes glanced quickly toward the door. "Do you think she did it?" he asked low enough so that only his friend and not anyone who might be listening could hear.

"I have to be honest, I don't think it sounds like something Hermione would do." Ron's shoulders sagged. "Are you actually disappointed?"

Ron shrugged one shoulder. "No. I don't know. It's just…well, at least if it _was_ Hermione I would know Blake is safe."

Harry forced his lips into a sad sort of half smile. "One can always hope."

The door to the waiting room opened then, cutting the conversation short. Harry instantly recognized the man as Gabriel Johnson, Jillian Oldham's second in command. He had been badgering the man the past three days for information, getting very little for all his efforts.

Gabriel folded his hands behind his back before he caught Harry's eye. "Captain Potter, if you'll come with me. Not you Captain Weasley." He held up a hand when Ron made to follow. "Only Captain Potter."

"Excuse me?"

The young Auror frowned apologetically. "Ms Granger said she would _only_ see Captain Potter."

Ron looked stunned. "Did you tell her _Ronald Weasley_ was here to see her?"

"Yes sir," Johnson nodded. "As I said, she said she would _only see Captain Potter_."

Ron's mouth gapped open stupidly giving him the almost comical appearance of a fish. "You must be mistaken." He said briskly, striding towards the door. "Hermione wouldn't refuse to see me."

Johnson put up a hand to stop him when he got too close. "I'm sorry Captain Weasley, but you'll have to wait here." It took all his strength to hold Ron back. "Ms Granger specifically said that she does not wish to see you."

Ron finally stopped fighting and fell back a step. "But…"

"Captain Potter," Johnson held open the door. "If you'll come with me."

Ron looked stupidly at Harry who shrugged ruefully back. "I'll ask." He promised just before the door closed.

Ron stared momentarily blind at the closed door. His heart had dropped into the very pit of his stomach and the sensation was making it impossible to breath. He stumbled across the room to the chair Harry had occupied earlier. The moment his weight was settled, he leaned forward so his head was practically between his knees.

Hermione refused to see him? He took several deep breaths as the last glimmer of hope he had snapped out of existence leaving behind a shell shocked body.


	21. An Interview With Hermione

Chapter Twenty-One: An Interview With Hermione

"You have fifteen minutes." Gabriel Johnson stopped outside the locked door of Interrogation Room B, turned and faced Harry. He held out his hand, palm up. "I'm afraid I'll need to confiscate your wand, Captain Potter."

Harry glared at the Auror. "Excuse me?"

"You know the rules, Captain Potter."

Harry stiffened his shoulders. "I'm an Auror."

"Not on this case."

"Surely an excep…"

"Not even for you." Johnson's hand held steady, waiting for Harry's wand. "Your wand."

"This is ludicrous." Harry reached for his wand and slapped it into Johnson's palm. "Do you really think I would be stupid enough to attempt breaking her out with all these Aurors around?"

"No Sir, of course not." Johnson tapped his own wand on the door and the lock clicked. "But rules are rules. Fifteen minutes." He pushed the door open and waited for Harry to step through before pulling it closed and locking it behind him.

"Harry," Hermione flung herself at him, wrapping her arms fiercely around his neck. "Thank God you're here. I've been going absolutely mad."

For a moment Harry hesitated, his sense of loyalty split between his two best friends. Unsure if he should be comforting her, throttling her or interrogating her, he stood there unmoving. He felt her arms tighten around him and his resolve melted. "Are you okay?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight.

"Yeah." She nodded, her face still pressed against his shoulder. "Yeah I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" He took her arms and held her away from him. "Are you absolutely positive you're alright? You're not being mistreated."

"Of course not. Well, I suppose that depends on what you mean by mistreated. Physically I'm fine. Mentally…that's an entirely different story."

"How do you mean?"

"I'm bored, Harry. I have hours of solitude and nothing to do. They won't even stop by my office and pick up some work for me." She ran her fingers anxiously through her hair. "I'm going mad in here. I'm not good at doing nothing."

"Yeah well, you are being held for kidnapping."

"Yes, and they should have released me long ago when they couldn't produce the proper evidence to charge me."

"They haven't charged you?"Hermione shook her head. "But they must have," Harry argued. "They have to have had charged you with something in order to continue holding you."

Hermione shook her head. "They can't charge me because they don't have any proof I did it. They only have an obscure sense of motive. Until they have something more concrete…" She let the sentence unfinished letting Harry come to his own conclusion.

Harry's mouth dropped open. "But that's against the law. They can't keep holding you if they haven't charged you with anything."

"That's what I said." Hermione plunked herself in a seat at the old abused table provided and motioned for him to join her. "Which is when Jillian Oldham threw out the words flight risk. Now she's not only holding me illegally but undoubtedly telling anyone who will listen that I intend to flee the country."

"Well, to be fair, you have done it before."

Hermione's face darkened several shades of red. "Thanks Harry. Now they're never going to let me out."

"Well," he persisted, "you did run away five…"

"No." She cut him off. "I didn't. I got a job offer. I had no reason to stay, so I took it. That's not running away, that's being practical." Closing her eyes, she turned her face away from him. "I never should have left Spain."

"You hated Spain."

"No I didn't."

"You were miserable."

"I was lonely," She corrected. "But no one in Spain would have accused me of kidnapping a child."

"So, you didn't do it then?"

Her eyes flashed to him, blazing with anger. "Harry!"

"I had to ask. They wouldn't suspect you without a certain amount of evidence."

"Please," Hermione snorted, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. "As if I'm still here because of Blake."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hermione sighed with irritation. "Have you ever had the displeasure of talking to Jillian Oldham?"

"She's the Beta Captain, of course I've talked to her."

"Good." She nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Then you know what I'm talking about."

Harry leaned forward, arms resting on the table "What _are_ you talking about?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Jillian Oldham and the fact that she hates us."

"What?" Harry sat back. "Jillian doesn't hate us."

"Oh please." Hermione snorted. "Of course she does."

"Why would she hate us? We haven't done anything to her."

"Are you blind?" She asked with disbelief. "Of course she does."

"Hermione, be reasonable."

The brunette glared at her friend. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that." She waved her hand towards his face. "Like I'm crazy or making things up. I'm not. She hates us because she thinks Ron was promoted unfairly to Captain over her because he's a member of the 'Golden Trio'. She wants revenge and because she can't touch you and she doesn't have enough to go after Ron, she's coming after me. That's why I'm still in here."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm not." Hermione slapped her hand down on the table. "She all but admitted it to me."

"Jillian Oldham is a professional. She would never…"

"How do you explain it then?" Hermione pushed away from the table and started pacing. "Explain why it took her so long to allow you in to see me. Or why she won't even entertain the idea that someone else might be guilty. And let me ask you this, has she let you, Ron, Parker or any of the other members of the Alpha Squad review the facts of this case?"

Harry's brow furrowed into a scowl. "I'm sure she has her reasons."

"Harry, open your eyes." Hermione threw up her hands. "You, Ron, Parker. You're suppose to be the best of the best. The most intelligent. The ones to go to when you need to get things done. If she really cared about this case; if she really wanted to find Blake, don't you think she would have at least asked you to look at the information? To get a new perspective? To see if there was something she missed? Something you might have thought of? No. She hasn't. Not everyone is as good as you would believe them to be, Harry. Oldham _hates _us. That's why she's doing this."

"Hermione, you're grasping."

"No, I'm not." She insisted. "Oldham is punishing me because she thinks that I think that I can get away with whatever I want. That we all do. She's punishing me and at the same time is trying to punish you, and Ron. Do you know, she told me she actually thinks there is something going on between us?"

"What?" Harry looked appalled. "between you and me?"

"No." Hermione rolled her eyes, slightly affronted. "Ron and me."

Harry tilted his head slightly to the side. "Isn't there?"

Hermione's jaw stiffened. "After the way he treated me? Are you joking? Or are you honestly being serious?"

"Hermione," Harry started, but not knowing what to say he stopped and stared at her.

She turned away from Harry perceptive gaze and started pacing again. "I thought things would be different now. Five years should have been enough time for him to get over it. I thought we could…" she shook her head. "But it doesn't really matter what I thought, does it? I tried discussing this with him, ut I don't think he understood."

"When did you try discussing this with him?"

"It doesn't matter." She planted her hands firmly on her hips. "Clearly trying to help him was a mistake." She turned away and bit at her thumbnail. "One apparently only I am paying for."

Harry's eyes went cold then flamed with fury at the woman standing across the room from him. Before his eyes she transformed from the friend, the sister, he loved into someone he no longer recognized. "Who the hell are you and what happened to the Hermione Granger I know?"

"Oh, be serious, Harry."

"I am. What is the matter with you?" Harry got to his feet and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table. "Ron's daughter is missing. He's lost legal custody. The Ministry won't let him do anything to help. His life is falling apart and you're the only one that's suffering?"

"Well at least he can do something about it." She whirled around. "He's out there. He's free. He can track Blake down and bring her home. But instead he's wasting his time coming here and trying to talk to me. He's supposed to be the best Auror in the Minstry. Why isn't he doing something? The longer he waits the harder it's going to be for anyone to find her."

"I'm surprised you even care." Harry said coldly.

"A little girl is missing. Of course I care."

"About her but not her father?" Harry observed.

"Ron's a big boy." She said snidely. "He can take care of himself."

Harry shook his head as he turned to the door. "I'll make sure to let him know you care."

"Yes, and while you're at it make sure he knows that's he'll need to seek alternative Legal Council." Harry looked back at her over his shoulder. For obvious reasons I can no longer handle his case."

"Is there any other message you're too cowardly to pass on yourself?"

Hermione flinched at his words. "Yes," she turned to face him, squaring her shoulders and shaking her hair back out of her face. "Tell him I said to go home."

"Go home?"

She nodded. "It's pointless for him to come here again. If he really wants to find Blake he should rally the family together. I've never known a family who could accomplish more when they put their mind to it. Fred and George alone could accomplish more than these imbeciles posing as Aurors." There was a knock at the door. "That'll be them." She turned back to Harry. "I'm sorry I've disappointed you, Harry."

He shook his head as the overwhelming anger he had felt moments ago began to dissipate. He crossed the few steps separating them and wrapped his arms around her. She stood frigid for a moment but relaxed when Harry continued to hold her. "I don't understand." He murmured. "I thought things were going so well between you two.

Hermione pulled away so that she could look up at her friend. "I'm counting on you, Harry." She said softly. "To get me out of here and to set things straight. Please, think about what I've said."

The door opened behind them. "Ms Granger. Captain Potter. Your times up."

"Just a moment Auror Johnson." Hermione held up a hand. "Everything will be fine, Harry." She tried to assure him. "I promise. Just remember what I said. Everything."

"Ms Granger." Johnson said her name impatiently.

"Thank you for coming, Harry." She flung her arms around his neck in one last fierce hug. She pulled away. "Perhaps when you come back, that is if you come back,"

"Of course I'll come back." There was an indignant edge to Harry's voice.

Hermione smiled. "Perhaps you could tell me how the rest of the family is doing. Please make sure they're all alright. Don't let them wallow and make sure they continue to live their life, no matter what happens."

"Ms Granger, really."

Harry ignored the Auror. "You sound like you're saying goodbye." His eyes narrowed.

Her lips twitched slightly. "It feels like it."

Harry grabbed her in one last bone crushing hug. "I'll come back to see you when I know more."

"That's enough you two. Your fifteen minutes are up."

Gabriel Johnson moved into the room and took Hermione by the arm, gently prying her out of Harry's grasp. "I'm counting on you, Harry." She said a she reached the door. "I need you to set this right." She disappeared into the hallway and Harry's lips twitched slightly when he heard Hermione angrily reprimand Johnson for not only being rude but for grabbing her when he promised not to. That was the Hermione he knew. Even in prison she was reprimanding her jailers for bad behavior.

When her voice faded away the smile disappeared from Harry's lips. Ron would be expecting answers and reassurance from Harry, but Harry had no idea what he was going to tell him. The look on his face when he left Ron in the waiting room was gut wrenching. He didn't know how much more of this Ron could handle. No one should ever have to be put through this kind of hell.

Harry shook his head to clear it. He was going to have to be very careful what he said when he rejoined Ron. It was clear the relationship between him and Hermione was strained, if not falling apart all together. Perhaps that explained why Hermione had stayed with him and Ginny during the trial and not Ron. But it was also clear that whatever Hermione was thinking, Ron wasn't aware of the strain, or if he was he was doing an admirable job at ignoring it. Which put Harry in a very delicate situation.

He needed to tell Ron the truth. It would be worse for him in the long run if he thought that Hermione would be running into his open arms when she was released, but on the other hand a blow like this could completely annihilate him.

Harry was just opening the door to the room where Ron was waiting for him when Gabriel Johnson came jogging down the hall, calling his name. "I forgot to return you your wand, Captain Potter," he explained holding out the length of wood.

"Johnson, isn't it?" He asked, accepting his wand back.

"Yes sir?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"That depends."

Harry turned his wand in his hand and watched as the light slid across the smooth surface. "Do you think she did it?"

"Captain Potter," Johnson shifted uncomfortably. "I can't divulge information, even with someone like you."

"I'm not asking for case details. I'm asking for your personal opinion. I want to know if you think she did it."

"You know her better than I do, Sir."

"Exactly. I want a more objective opinion."

"I think," Johnson said after several minutes of quiet thought, "that it would be an awful lot for someone like her to risk."

"Meaning?"

"I would expect someone like Hermione Granger not to get caught."

"So you think she did it."

"No." he said uncertainly. "I'm saying I don't think she would risk it if she wasn't positive she could get away with it."

"I'm confused."

"So am I, Sir."

Harry shook his head. "Thank you for your…candidness."

Johnson nodded before he turned and strode briskly away. Harry watched his retreating back for a moment before shaking his head and opening the door to the waiting room.

Ron hadn't moved from the moment he sunk into the chair. He sat hunched over his body, head cradled in his hands, gazing blindly at the floor. He had a fragile, almost shattered look to him.

Harry struggled to swallow past the hard lump in his throat. "Ron?" He asked tentatively.

The redhead looked up, a silent plea in his devastated eyes. Harry couldn't bare it. He looked away.

Ron drew a shaky breath. "It's over. Isn't it?"

Harry's head lowered with a shake. "I don't know."

Ron rose awkwardly to his feet. "Well, what did she say?"

"I really don't think this is the time…"

"Harry," he took a step forward. "What did Hermione say?"

"Ron, why don't you just…"

"What did she say?" Ron demanded, gripping Harry's arm, the lost look he had worn moments ago replaced with a look of both frustration and anger. "Just tell me."

"She said," Harry chanced a glance at his friend and felt a quick stab of nausea to his stomach. "She said to go home, mate."

Harry watched helplessly as his best friends shoulders sagged, the familiar gleam of his eyes retreating further inside of him. "Hermione doesn't want to see me?" Harry didn't bother answering. Ron wasn't 

really in search of one. "I don't understand." Ron's eyes, when he looked, up were bewildered. "I know I said some things I shouldn't have said, but… she really said to go home?"

Unable to form the words Harry nodded. "I'm sorry." He somehow managed to croak, though he wasn't sure Ron could understand him, he looked so lost in his misery.

"I have to go."

"Ron," Harry put a hand out to stop him. "Why don't you come stay with us tonight?"

Ron shook his head.

"Look, I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay in that house alone, and neither does Ginny. She's worried about you. We both are. And you know Ginny's not going to let me have a moments peace until you agree to stay with us, so do me a favor, yeah?"

Ron shook his head adamantly. "I have to go."

"Ron," Harry made to stop him again but the look his friend threw him had him instantly backing off.

"Just leave me alone Harry." He said threw gritted teeth. "Just leave me the hell alone."

* * *

"Well?"

Carbonell glared at his wife while undoing the clasp of his traveling cloak. "Well what? Do you see the child anywhere? Does it look like I have her?"

Melantha glared back at her husband. "Don't be short with me. This isn't my fault."

"If you had let me go directly to Gringotts like I wanted…"

"You know that would have made them suspicious of us." She growled.

"And as I told _you_ it wouldn't have mattered. We won custody. There was nothing they could have done to stop us and we would have been long gone before they could have. Now we're stuck here waiting like a pair of fools for the Ministry to come and arrest us because we have to wait for the return of a child we didn't even want in the first place."

"Well, what do you suggest we do? We don't have any options left. Without the child…"

"We leave. Now. Before they officially press charges."

"We still have time. If they had anything substantial on us they would have…"

Carbonell took his wife's face between his hands, affectively silencing her. "Melantha," He said softly, "They could take us at any moment. It's better to leave now, cut our losses and be safe."

"Without that child's inheritance we can't afford to…"

"Damn it Melantha," he dropped his hands from her face, turned and marched a few steps away. "We don't have that option anymore."

"What do you mean? Carbonell," she insisted when he didn't answer. "What do you mean?"

Shaking his head on a sigh he turned to face her once again. "I stopped by the Ministry today to see what I could learn. I spoke with Paxman. The Betas aren't any closer to finding her then they were on Friday."

"Hasn't Weasley cracked yet?"

"They don't think it was him."

"Of course it was him." Melantha laughed. "Who else would kidnap that child?"

"There lead suspect is Granger."

Melantha's mouth dropped. "That stuck-up, straight laced, bitch?"

Carbonell nodded.

"She wouldn't dare."

He shrugged. "They have her in custody."

Melantha stared at him a moment before her face lit up with perverse joy. "This is better than I could have imagined." She rubbed her hands together eagerly as she turned to pace. "I wish we could stay long enough to see the outcome of this. I would love to see that Mudblood bitch get knocked down a peg or two."

"So does that mean you agree? It's time to go?"

Melantha snorted. "If what you say is true and Granger was the one to take her, we'll never find her. With Weasley we had a chance. He's to incompetent to keep her hidden for long. But Granger, unfortunately, is smart and therefore a very different story."

"So," Carbonell reached for her hand and thread his fingers through hers. "When can you be ready to leave?"

Melantha slowly turned, never releasing her husband's hand, and took a quick inventory of what little remained of her family's heirlooms. "I'll be damned," she said through gritted teeth, "If I'll let the Ministry confiscate any of this. Give me three days."

"What for?" He arched a brow.

"I told you, I won't let those Mudblood loving fools in the Ministry confiscate my family's legacy. I need time to ensure they can't find any of it so that when we come back,"

"Melantha," he cut her off. "We won't be coming back."

"_Yes,_" she pulled her hand from his. "We will. And when we do I want to make sure I have some of my family's treasures to come back to."

Carbonell sighed. "Fine." He didn't have the heart to argue with her. She would realize the truth of their situation soon enough. "As quick as you can then. I would rather it were two days, but if you need three." He pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek before he turned away. "I'll see what I can do about finding us enough funds."

"Carbonell," she called him back. "Do you think perhaps you should make one more _visit _to Ceemist?"

He stood, staring blankly past her for a minute as he went through what was left of their options. "No," He said, coming to a conclusion. "There's no need to alert him things are about to change. I don't trust him not to come clean as soon as he thinks the threat is over."

Melantha laughed snidely. "The man's a fool if he thinks we still have the power needed to carry through with our little threat on his wife." She huffed quietly. "If I had seen this little turn in events I never would have had you threaten him in the first place."

The corner of Carbonell's lip lifted into a smile. "You could still let me follow it through."

Melantha tapped his face with mock sympathy. "No, but I'll let you torture the next one, Sweetheart. I promise."

He caught her hand before she had a chance to pull it away and drew it around his neck, drawing her body against his in the process. He grinned down at her greedily as he leaned in to kiss her. "I love it when you talk dirty."

"Do you think we've heard enough?" Gwen whispered as quietly as she could. "Felix?" She hissed when he didn't answer.

"Huh?"

She glanced over at her partner and rolled her eyes with disgust. "Felix," she slid a hand over his eyes and pulled him away from the open window. "You are such a pervert."

"What?" He grinned at her as he removed her hand from his face. "It was just getting good."

Gwen shook her head as she turned away. "Come on." She nodded her head to the side, indicating that he should follow. Together they crept amongst the overgrown shrubs and flowers, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Both were keenly aware that if they got caught trespassing on the Javed's private property it could be their job or even their lives. Both knew what the Javed's were capable of and neither wanted to find themselves at the end of their wand without the rest of their team to back them up.

"Do you think we'll get in trouble?" Felix asked when they passed the property line.

"Not if it helps Ron get his kid back. Besides, it's not like we did anything _really _illegal. It's their own fault they haven't a fence and were stupid enough to talk in front of an open window."

"Right," Felix turned to face Gwen. "Who do we go to with this? Parker or Ron?"

"Parker said to report directly to him."

"Gwen," He stopped her just before she apperated away. "This is going to be over soon, isn't it?"

Gwen couldn't help but grin at her young partner. "It feels like it." And with a gentle twist on her heel she was gone.

* * *

She'd never really noticed how small and plain her hands were before. They weren't dainty or gentle. Just small and plain. She tilted her head to the side as she angled her hand a little to the right. For the most part they were smooth, due to the daily moisturizing she normally gave them. But there were hard calluses on the tips of her thumb and forefinger and across her middle knuckle from where she gripped her quill. She picked at the harden skin of her knuckle for a moment with her nail but quickly grew bored.

She turned her hands over several times memorizing the location of every freckle and crease, wishing for perhaps the first time in her life that she had been a better student in Divination. At least then she would have something to do.

She turned her hand over, palm up, and stared at the deep grooves. She wondered, if she could read them, if her hands would tell her how much longer she would have to wait before she went completely insane.

Curling her fingers in on her palm, Hermione shoved the fist into the mattress until it rested just under her thigh. What was she thinking, she groaned with disgust. She was clearly already insane for even contemplating the use of Divination as a mean to pass her time.

Giving up on her hand, Hermione glanced around her holding cell. She tilted her head in the other direction as she took in the room with a discerning eye. She needed something, anything, to help her pass the time. She sighed unhappily as she thought longingly of the stack of case files she had left behind in her office when the Betas came to get her. She knew when she asked Harry to bring them to her that he wouldn't be able to. Not that it would have mattered anyways. She was neither naive nor delusional enough to believe her job would be waiting for her when she was finally release. That was to say if she was ever released. The way things were looking right now that would be a long time in coming.

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought. In the course of one short afternoon, everything she had been working for over the past five years, was for not. Her career, her reputation, gone. They both disappeared as quickly as little Blake had.

Reacting to the usual bout of frustration and anxious energy, Hermione rose to her feet and began pacing the familiar path in the floor. It was the same path she had trod since they had put her in here. Much more of this and there would be a permanent path in the floor.

A door opened down the hall. Hermione stopped and waited. After a minute an Auror from the Gamma squad walked past her cell, waving at her and smiling friendly, before moving on to a cell father down where he was holding someone for questioning on an attempted robbery.

Sighing with disappointment Hermione began pacing again. Four days had passed since Harry had first come to visit her. Four days since he promised to get her out of here. And in the four days nothing had happened except Ron making himself into a nuisances. Hermione huffed, planting her hands firmly on her hips. She reached the end of the room and turned briskly around. Hating that he tormented himself like that day after day, she wished he would just get the message and go away.

Hermione paced the length of the small room a few more times before she returned to the bed and sat, hoping that she had worked off enough of her restless energy to sit still for a while. After only a few minutes of silence she began tapping her toe in an unsteady rhythm. With a growl of frustration she threw herself backwards across the bed, flinging her arms behind her head.

If only someone could tell her what was going on she might be able to relax enough to get some actual sleep. There was no mirror in her room, so she couldn't be certain, but she thought her skin had to be sallow and her eyes baggy and red from lack of sleep. Without something else to focus her mind on she found herself forever thinking about the horrible things going on in her life. The case, her relationship with Ron. And adding to her mental torment, Harry hadn't been back to see her since that disastrous first meeting. Neither he nor Parker had stopped by to fill her in on the status of their cases, which meant she hadn't seen nor heard from Parker since the end of the trial. Though the two men hadn't made it a point to come and see her she had to believe that they were still trying to help. She kept telling herself that they were just busy, they had a lot going on right now, she could hardly expect them to come and amuse her when there was so many more important things to do.

But what if they weren't busy? Hermione's eyes sprung open. Harry had been really angry with her. What if…what if she had turned him completely against her? What if he and Parker had both taken Ron's side and decided to leave her here to rot? Hermione moaned, flinging an arm over her eyes. It wasn't fair. All she was really guilty of was trying to help.

Lost in her own misery she almost missed the familiar tap of a wand against her cell door. Ignoring the intrusion, she kept her arm slung over her eyes.

"You have a visitor, Ms Granger."

Hermione sat up at the sound of the unfamiliar, heavy accent. Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you? Where's Johnson?"

The heavy lidded man glared at her. "You have a visitor." He repeated.

Sighing, Hermione returned to her back, folding her hands behind her head. "You may tell Ron that I still will not see him."

"He said his name was Parker Gale."

"Parker?" Hermione bolted into a sitting position. "Parker's here?"

The man stared numbly at her. "That's what he said. Do you want me to send him away?" He asked when Hermione didn't move.

"No." She bound to her feet and across the room. "I'm coming." She was at the door in seconds, waiting for the Auror to let her out.

The man held open the door and together they stepped into the hall. They strode side by side down the hall passing through several doors before Hermione decided to break the silence. "You're new to the squad?" He didn't answer. "I don't recognize you, is all." Her face flushed bright with heat when he turned and stared at her, one brow arched with intrigue. "It use to be a part of my job description to be familiar with all the Aurors." She explained and the man grunted. "Do you have a name?" He ignored her until they reached the door to Questioning Room C. "Fifteen minutes." He opened the door and ushered her inside.

The door slammed closed and locked instantly behind her. "Very friendly." She muttered as she quickly scanned the room. Her brows furrowed. She stepped further into the room, she scanned it again for her missing friend.

"I don't understand." Hermione stiffened, an automatic response she was unable to stifle. "Why would you agree to see Parker…but not me?"

Hermione turned, her face cold and expressionless. Her arms slowly crossed over her chest, her hip jutted slightly to the side. "I should think that would be quite obvious."

"Hermione," Ron took an automatic step towards her but stopped when she put up a hand.

"I thought I made it clear I didn't want to see you."

Ron swallowed. "Yeah," He nodded, "I understood that. But what I don't understand is why?"

"Please, Ron, even you can't be that stupid." Her face contorted into a sneer. "I'm sure if you try _really_ hard you can think of at least one reason."

Ron tensed at the thinly veiled insult. "Is that so?" Hermione nodded curtly. "I didn't realize you had such a low opinion of me."

Hermione smirked. "That's unsurprising. You never seem to have any clue of what's going on."

"Yeah," A muscle throbbed in Ron's chin. "You must be right, because right now I am completely lost. What the hell did I do? Why are you so mad at me?" Hermione's scowl deepened. "Is this about what I said after the trial?"

"Hardly. I'm use to you spouting off your mouth with no regards to the consequences. It's just the way you are. Something as trivial as blaming me for the Javed's gaining custody is not going to upset me."

"Then I don't know what's got you in a snit."

"One," Hermione jabbed him in the chest, "I don't get into snits. And two," she jabbed him again, "you don't know because you never see what's right in front of your face."

Ron snatched her hand when she went to poke him again and pushed it down to her side. "Don't."

Huffing with annoyance Hermione pulled her hand free before marching to the other side of the room. "What are you doing here, Ron?"

"Honestly, I don't know anymore. I thought I was coming here to check on you, make sure you were doing alright. Clearly I'm wasting my time."

"At last, we finally agree on something." She said spitefuly under her breath. "Have you even begun to look for that child, or are you procrastinating because you think I deserve to be punished?"

"I'm not procrastinating and I never said you deserved to be punished."

"But you thought it."

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"And you don't deny it either." She turned to face him. "How typical. Things don't go your way so you retaliate. Was it really necessary to accuse _me_ of kidnapping Blake? Ruining my personal life wasn't bad enough you had to go after my career as well? Thank you so very much."

"I'm not after your career." He yelled, his frustration coming out in the darkening of his blue eyes and the tension stiffening his shoulders. "I came here because I was worried about you. That's it."

"You shouldn't have bothered. I can take care of myself. Besides, I'm sure you have more important things to do then come here and gloat."

"I didn't come here to gloat." Ron took a step back, shaking his head with bewilderment. "How could you even say that? This isn't right. This isn't you?"

Hermione shrugged dismissively. "Maybe not. But then, how well do you even know me?"

"I know everything about you?"

"Really?" Hermione tilted her head to the side. "Who was my best friend in Spain? Why did I decide to come home? Here's an easy one. What is my job title?" She waited for him to answer, bottom lip caught 

between her teeth. "See. You can't answer. Since my return to England what have we talked about besides Blake's case? Nothing. We're not friends. All you ever wanted from me was my counsel. And since we're on the matter, I should tell you that I can no longer represent you. Even if I were free to do so it wouldn't be a good idea. Don't look at me that way." Hermione turned away. "I'm sure Winifred Edgecombe will be more then glad to resume work on this case. Now that we've that settled," she motioned towards the door, "Don't let me waste anymore of your time."

"So that's it?" Ron stared at her incredulously. "After all we've been through…"

"Please Ron, don't make this into anymore then what it is."

"I'm sorry if I offend you Hermione, but there's not enough ice in my veins to respond to this situation with the same indifference as you."

Hermione clamped her teeth tight as she lifted her chin defiantly. "Well done, Weasley. You've finally learned how to insult a person without resorting to crude terms. I guess there's hope for you after all."

Ron glowered at her. "What do you care? I'm just that insensitive, idiot you happen to know."

"You're right about one thing." Hermione agreed, taking a step towards him. "You are an idiot. You've wasted nearly a week trying to get in here to see me, when, I might add, I made it perfectly clear I didn't want to see you. What have you been doing with yourself? Why haven't you been out there looking for her? You quite obviously love her more than anything else in the world. Why haven't you demanded the Betas tell you what they know?"

Ron ground to a stop. "Don't you think I've tried? They won't let me anywhere near this case."

"So what? You're Captain of the Alphas. Make them tell you. Go above their heads if you have too. Do something besides sitting around and sulking. You're not doing you or Blake any good by feeling sorry for yourself."

"What do you know?" Ron rounded on her.

"I know your pattern. I've seen it all before." She turned and started pacing, taking up where Ron left off. "When something goes wrong you act like the entire world is against you. You close yourself off from the people who care most about you and then feel sorry for yourself because you think no one cares. Well I have news for you," she turned and marched on him. "There are twenty people I can name off the top of my head who would do anything for you. Who have gone above and beyond for you. And how to you repay them? You push them away. You forget about them. You take them for granted. When was the last time you sat down and talked to a member of your family about something besides Blake?"

"I…"

"Do you even care about anyone else besides yourself?"

"Of course I do?"

"Then tell me, is Fleur's morning sickness under control? Is Bryony sleeping through the night yet? Is Fred still working his way through all the females in Britain?" She waited a moment, tapping her toe expectantly. "Your silence is damming. These are important things in your family's life and you don't know. What makes you think you deserve to be a father when you can't appreciate the family you already have?"

Ron opened his mouth to retort but found he had nothing to say. Like hell he didn't deserve to be a father. No one could love that little girl more than him.

Mustering all his will to keep from snapping back at her he stepped back, putting more distance between them, clasping his hands firmly behind his back. "Why did you agree to take my case?"

"What?" Evident surprise flashed across her face.

"Did you do it to sabotage me?"

"Sabotage?"

"It all makes sense. You were the one who told me someone should take Blake away before I had a chance to ruin her. From where I'm standing you were in the perfect position to make sure that happened."

"Wow Ron. You've got me figured out. I did _all_ of this just to make sure Blake was far away from you. So, now that you've got what you came for why don't you leave?"

"Fine." Ron marched towards the door. "That's just fine. I should have known better then to trust you again. To think I actually thought myself in love with you." He lifted his hand to pound angrily at the door.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle. "Don't say that." She shook her head.

"Say what?"

She turned her head away. "If you think you can come in here after all that's happened, after everything we've talked about, everything I've been through, and say that to me, you are seriously mistaken."

"I could give a shite what you think anymore." He shook his head, turning away with disgust. "I just can't believe he was right." He muttered under his breath.

"You can't believe who was right?"

Ron glared at her, mouth pressed tight like he would refuse to answer. "Fred." He said when no one immediately came to let him out. "He warned me this was going to happen. I didn't want to believe him, but…"

"Fred has always had an uncanny ability to know more then he should and not realize it. I suppose it comes from his resourcefulness."

"Well, bully for Fred."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't take this out on him."

"Don't tell me what to do." A wand tapped on the other side of the door and the latch shifted. Ron turned to give her one more disdainful glare before he left, back rammed straight and shoulders squared. "Enjoy your stay."


	22. She Said What

I told you I would get this up in the next few days. At last I was finally able to do something right. I just wanted to write a quick message and say thanks to all of you who took the time to review. I absolutely loved reading your theories. I love that some of you have bits and pieces of it right, and no I won't tell you who you are. I just love that some of you are getting it, or at least partly of it.

I also wanted to take a moment and wish a Happy Birthday to my best friend, FiggyLynn, a day early. Hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow, and I promise, I won't call you a minute after midnight to be the first to wish you a Happy Birthday.

I hope you all enjoy this, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: She Said What

It was with a disbelieving eye that Ginny observed the devastation in her once immaculate kitchen. Traces of food clung to everything. Splatter from the pot on the stove. Sauce spread across the table where Si had sat. A pile of noodles on the floor where he had dumped his plate. Her once angelic child had finally stumbled across his mischievous side, an inevitable consequence of having two Marauders for namesakes and Weasley twins for uncles. She knew the devilish grin he threw her as he dumped his spaghetti on the floor would be the end of her. How could she be angry with him when the smile on his face was one of purest joy? It had taken all her self control not to laugh along with him. Now, however, when he wasn't charming her silly, the state of her kitchen wasn't so amusing.

With a sound of frustration she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and set to work putting the room to rights. She didn't have much time. Once the children were awake they would demand her undivided attention and she wouldn't get any work done. She started with the pile of noodles on the floor, making quick work of them, determined to have one mess cleaned up before Si was able to make another.

"Hello!" With a groan of frustration Ginny turned her head toward the sound of the voice. "Hello? Ginny? Are you home?"

"Yeah, yeah." She grumbled, throwing the marinara stained rag on top of the pile of noodles. "Coming!" She called loud enough for the voice to hear, wiping her hands on the legs of her jeans as she struggled to her feet.

She followed the voice to the sitting room where she was surprised to see Parker's anxious face suspended above her fire. "Ginny," He sighed with relief as she lowered herself to her knees at the hearth. "I'm so glad you're home. I need you to do something for me."

Groaning, Ginny let her head fall back against her shoulders. "Parker," her voice sounded weary even to her own ears. "Can't you find someone else? Today's not a good day." She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. "I have food all over my kitchen. Crayons scattered in the den. Drawings on my wall. I swear, Si's decided he's out to give me premature gray hairs. Parker, there are noodles on my ceiling, and…"

"Ginny," Parker cut her off. "Ron didn't come into work today."

Ginny stopped short, looking down at him in surprise. "He didn't?"

Parker's head shook in the fire.

"But Ron hasn't missed a day of work since…"

"He joined the Aurors." Parker nodded. "I know. Partners, remember? That's why I need you to go and check on him for me. I would go myself, but I just got a lead I have to follow, and your husband's stuck in class all day, otherwise I would have asked him."

"So you want me to go and check on my brother?" Ginny struggled not to role her eyes. "Parker, he missed one day of work. I know its unusually for him, but I think we're all entitled to miss one day now and again, especially with what he is going through right now."

"Exactly." Parker insisted. "A _normal_ person would have taken time off a long time ago if they were in Ron's place. But he hasn't. You know as well as I do that he throws himself _into_ his work when he has something he doesn't want to think about. Ginny, he's been home all day stewing. What kind of state do you think he's in?" He lowered his head, a lick of flames momentarily blocking his eyes. "I'm worried about him, Ginny."

"Why? Because he's finally acting the way a normal person would?"

"No. I'm worried because I think he saw Hermione yesterday."

Ginny eyes widened with surprise. "You mean she gave in?"

"I have no idea." His head bobbed as if he shrugged his shoulders. "All I know is Gregory Stone saw him storming out of an interrogation room yesterday. He left in the middle of the work day and didn't even stop to tell anyone he was leaving."

Ginny sat back on her heels, rubbing wearily at her scalp. "Okay. I'll go." Her shoulders sagged wearily. "I'll have to wait until the children wake up, but…."

"Couldn't you floo your mum and ask her to come and watch them?"

She made a sound of indecision, her eyes darting to a mess Parker couldn't see. She closed her eyes. "Alright." She nodded. "I'll go as soon as I can."

Parker sighed with relief before smiling gratefully. "I owe you, Ginny."

"No," She shook her head. "You don't. He's my brother after all. Anyway, get going. I'm going to need the network if I'm going to floo mum."

"Thanks, Ginny." He said before pulling his head out of the fire and freeing the network.

Ginny made quick work of contacting her mother. While she waited, she finished cleaning the kitchen and managed to get all of the crayons back into their box. She knew she wouldn't have time to get the drawings off the wall so she cast a quick glammer. She could easily imagine the look of disapproval on her mother's face if she arrived to find Grimmauld Place anything less than tidy. Molly Weasley, after all, had managed to keep her house spotless while raising seven children. Her daughter should certainly be able to manage with only two.

The Glammer had just settled into place over the ruined wall when Molly stepped comfortably out of the fireplace. With a quick thanks, Ginny disapperated, leaving a very bewildered Molly Weasley behind.

With a gentle pop, Ginny reappeared just outside the perimeter of her brother's garden. Cautiously she stepped forward, leery of the wards her brother might have set, the reason she hadn't apparated directly to the front stoop. When nothing happened she set off at a brisk pace toward the house, anxiety fueling her forward.

When she reached the door she knocked, unable to hide her urgency. No one answered, but when she tried the handle she found it unlocked.

"Ron!" She poked her head through the gap. The house was dark, all the windows closed, the blinds and drapes drawn. "Ron, are you here?" She slid sideways through the opening and stumbled over a pile of boxes stacked near the door.

Using one box as leverage, she pushed herself back to her feet. The weak cardboard flap gave way under her weight and her hand came down on something soft and plush. Eyes wide, she pulled the stuffed toy out of the box. It was a small tabby cat with green, glossy eyes.

Crouching down, the stuffed cat held against her chest, Ginny flipped open the lid. Inside was more of Blake's toys. Balls and blocks, stuffed animals and dolls. She pulled open another box. This one held Blake's clothes. Another her cot bedding.

Something banged overhead and Ginny jumped at the sound of Ron's curse coming from the next story. She sprung to her feet and hurried up the stairs and down the hallway, the plush toy still in hand. She pushed open the door to Blake's room, and though she was expecting it, she took a step back in surprise.

All of Blake's belongings were cleared out. Her clothes cabinet empty. The shelves Ron had built and installed himself, abandoned. On the floor near the door was one rail of the cot, the obvious sound of the thud she had heard.

With an angry growl, Ron detached the other rail and let it drop to the floor.

Ginny jumped at the sound, a hand automatically going to her chest. "What are you doing?"

Ron spared her hardly a glance before he started in on removing the bottom of the cot from the sides. "Do you know anyone in need of a cot?" He asked.

Ginny stared at him blankly for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Blake."

Ron leaned against the cot, fingers clamped knuckle white around the wood. His teeth clamped down tight and a pulse leapt to his jaw. "Blake is gone." He forced himself to straighten and start again at his task. "She's gone and she's not coming back. So I won't be needing any of this anymore."

"Ron," Ginny came to stand behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He immediately shook it off. "Ron, we'll find her. You can't give up."

With another growl, something snapped and one corner of the base came free. "She's not coming back." He said through gritted teeth.

Ginny's eyes narrowed with concern. "Of course she is. Once she's found, we'll get Ceemist's ruling overturned and…"

"I don't think you understand," Ron interrupted. "What I mean to say is, I don't _want_ her back."

Ginny blinked in disbelief. "What did you say?"

With a heavy sigh, Ron finally turned to face her. Ginny's mouth gapped momentarily in surprise. She hardly recognized the man staring at her from behind her brother's eyes. They were violently red and sunken, the intense blue dulled to an unrecognizable shade. His hair was tangled and matted, clumps of it jutting out where he had gripped it. Dark circles lined the bottom of his eyes and his clothes looked disheveled and slept in.

"I said, _I don't want her back._" He spoke slowly, over annunciating each word like he was speaking to someone of lower intelligence.

Ginny's mouth gapped. "But I don't understand." She shook her head. "Where is this coming from?"

"What do you mean, where is this coming from?" Ron put a hand to his chest. "I didn't want to be a dad, remember? I don't like babies. I'm scared of them. I don't want her. I never wanted her. Greene made me take her home in the first place. Remember? I finally found a way out of this mess, and I'm taking it."

"Bullocks." Ginny growled harshly. "You wouldn't have fought so hard for her if you didn't want her."

"I felt sorry for her."

"You _love_ her."

Ron ducked his head, shaking it slowly. "Babies are like women. You think you want one 'till you have one, but then you remember they cause you nothing but heartache."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this." Ginny turned away from him and began to pace, the head of the stuffed animal in her hand getting squeezed like a worry ball. "Just yesterday you were devastated Blake was gone. You would have moved heaven and earth to get her back."

"Things change."

"Not this." She stopped pacing to stare at him. He had returned to dismantling the cot. Another corner came free and the end fell over sideways, to land on the floor.

Ginny's fingers curled into tight fists at her sides. "Would you _please _stop doing that?" She marched forward and grabbed his wrist, hauling him away from the now dilapidated piece of furniture. Using her hand, she turned his head, forcing him to look at her. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you," he pulled her hand away from his face. "I never wanted to be a dad."

Ginny pulled her hand free of his grasp and took a firm hold of his chin. "You can't lie to me, Ronald Weasley." He tried to turn his head away but she held him steady. "You might have been able to fool the others, but not me. You were never terrified of babies. That fear everyone saw, that was you terrified you would grow attached to something you thought you could never have. But you have it now." Her fingers held steady when he made to turn again. "Blake is yours. Why are you trying to ruin that?"

His jaw tightened under her grasp. He firmly, but gently, pushed Ginny away, taking a few steps back to put more space between them. "You seem to know me better than I do. Why don't you tell me?" He turned and stalked away, out the door into the hallway.

After a moments surprise Ginny followed. "You're scared." She called after him when she reached the top of the stairs. Ron paused, halfway down the staircase, but did not turn to look at her. His shoulders rolled forward and his head bowed. "You're terrified of being hurt again. You think you've made a mistake letting her into your heart." His muscles tensed, as if preparing himself for a physical blow. "You know I'm right." He continued down the stairs and she followed. "That's why you're packing up all her things and…" She came to a stop, staring after him as he disappeared into his study, slamming the door behind him. Her eyes glanced from the stack of boxes near the door, to the stuffed animal in her hand and back towards the nearly empty nursery.

All the pieces came together as she recalled the last time Ron had packed up his life and pushed everyone away. Only one person had that kind of power over her brother. The one person, Parker had on good authority, Ron had managed to see yesterday. Ginny closed her eyes as she cursed Hermione Granger to perdition.

She hurried down the stairs and to the closed study door. Slowly, she turned the handle and eased opened the heavy panel of oak. She blinked fiercely at the blinding light spilling from the room into the unnaturally dark hallway. Eyes squinting in the harsh light, she poked her head through the gap. She scanned the room for her brother. She almost missed him. He was sitting with his back to her, facing out an open window, the source of the light, a nearly empty bottle of Firewhisky hanging loosely from his fingertips.

"Ron?"

For a moment he didn't react, than the bottle rose to his lips and turned up. He took several deep pulls before lowering it. "I thought you went home."

She stepped into the room, knocking an empty bottle aside with her foot. "Not yet."

"What do you want?" His voice was harsh and strained, the first glimpse of the pain that was ragging inside of him.

"To talk." She took a few more steps. She set the stuffed animal down on a shelf. "I want to know what she said to you."

He refused to look at her. He stared almost blindly out the window, his eyes following the empty rope swing as it swayed in the harsh breeze. "Who?" He asked evasively. His eyes stung and blurred, forcing the garden out of focus. Just as well, he thought closing them. There was nothing back there but empty dreams and broken promises.

Ginny frowned with disapproval. "You know who I'm talking about." She waited for him to respond. "Hermione."

Ron flinched at the sound of the name. Pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to stop the flow of tears he knew was coming. He reached out blindly, fumbling to set the bottle on the desk behind him. The bottle bumped against the edge, he lifted it over the lip but released it before the base had settled on the surface.

Reacting with the instinctive speed of a mother, Ginny lunged forward and saved the bottle before it landed on the ground.

"How much of this have you had?" She asked, shifting through the piles of parchment strewn across the desk in search of a cap.

"Not nearly enough." Ron forced his throat to swallow the heavy ball that had settled just above his Adam's apple.

Ginny hummed with displeasure, spotting more than one empty bottle in the room. "I'd say you've had more than enough last night." She shifted a large pile of parchment into a neat stack, revealing the glossy corner of a picture underneath. Curious, she pulled it free of the stack and turned it so it was right side up. Her heart twinged inside her chest when she realized what she was looking at. It was a remarkable snap shot of Ron and Blake the day of her naming, sitting under one of the many trees at the Burrow.

Tenderly she traced a finger over Blake's delicate features, then Ron's. He had been so happy that day. So utterly content. Her heart constricted with the realization that that look was gone. Blake's presences in his life had healed him after so many years of pain and self induced solitude. She glanced at her brother over the edge of the photo. He looked hollow now. An empty shell of the man he was supposed to be. He looked more broken than ever.

Ginny moved around the side of the desk until she was standing next to Ron. She lowered the print until it was within his line of vision. "This is a stunning photo."

Ron turned his head to look. His shoulders instantly tensed. He snatched the picture out of her hands, wrenched open a desk drawer and shoved the print inside. When he slammed the drawer shut it was with enough force that the feet of the desk shifted on the floor.

Turning fully to the desk he took up the bottle from where Ginny had set it and took a heavy pull. Ginny watched silently, apparent disapproval written on her face. "Are you going to tell me what happened or continue to drink yourself into a stupor?" She asked when he lowered the bottle.

"Ginny," he closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the disappointment on her face, "_Go_ _away_."

With a sad sigh she crouched down so that she was closer to his level. Tilting her head to the side, she reached up and gently ran her fingers though his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. She rested her palm tenderly on his cheek, coaxing him into looking at her. "What did she say to you?"

Ron swallowed. "What makes you think she said anything? She won't see me, remember?" He bit out the last.

"But you did see her."

He winced under her steady gaze. "Who told you?"

"Parker. He flooed me." She placed her other hand on his arm. "He's worried about you."

"So why didn't he come and check on me, instead of sending my little sister?"

Ginny pulled her hand away to cross her arms over her breast. She glared at him. "I suppose he sent me because he thought I was also your friend."

Ron stared silently at her before turning away from the wounded look in her eyes.

"Besides," she rose to her full height. "It doesn't take a genius to figure this out. You've done this all before."

"Done what?"

"This." She made a swishing motion with her hand. "Pretend like nothings bothering you. Remove all evidence that someone you cared about was ever in your life. Focus all your attention on a job so you won't have to think about it. It's the same thing you did five years ago."

"Gin," He barked through clenched teeth, eyes closed, fingers clutched around the throat of the bottle. "Just leave it alone."

"And you divert the topic away from the people you don't want to talk about." She squared her shoulders. "If she's hurt you again, you have to tell me."

"Why?" He asked snidely. "So you can make it all better?" He pushed away from the desk and onto his feet. "You can't fix it this time. There's nothing left to fix. It's over. We never had a chance. She wants nothing to do with me."

"She said that?" Ginny watched him march to the other side of the room, stopping by a book case, bracing his arm on a shelf and resting his head against it. "Ron. Hermione said that to you?"

His hand tightened into a fist. "That, and a lot more."

Ginny swallowed, almost afraid to ask. "What else did she say?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't really matter."

"Of course it does." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me. Please."

Ron closed his eyes against the fresh wave of pain and anger. When he tried to speak the words wouldn't come out. It was as though his throat had closed up on him. He tried again. "She didn't want to see me." He murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I already knew that."

"Of course you did." He pushed away the pain in favor of anger, letting the rage force the ache into a hard ball in his stomach. He lifted his head and glared at her. "Did you also know that she blames _me _of accusing her of kidnapping."

"Why would she think that? You had nothing to do with it."

"Because she thinks I'm trying to punish her for losing Blake's case." Ron pointed at his chest. "I never accused her of anything."

"I know." She said firmly, and after a moment. "And so does she." Ron shook his head. "No, think about it." Ginny stopped him. "You know her. Probably better than anyone else. You know how her mind works. She's been locked up in a holding cell for almost two weeks. It's got to be getting to her. She's just taking her aggravation out on you."

"No." he shook his head, more adamant this time. "It's more than that." He turned, arms crossed over his chest and leaned his hips against the book shelf, head bowed low. "She blames me for everything. Ruining her life. Losing her job. Her reputation. She made it clear our time together meant nothing to her." He forced his throat to swallow. "I, ah… I didn't realize life with me was so horrible."

"It's not." Ginny immediately insisted.

"It must be, because this is the second time she's pitched me. The second. How else am I suppose to take that? And before you say anything, don't. You didn't see the look in her eyes."

"No," She agreed, squaring her shoulders, preparing to fight. "I didn't. And I don't have to." She took him by the arms and turned him until he was facing her. "If that's how she feels, then screw her. You don't need her. Once you get Blake back…

Ron wrenched himself out of her hands. "I'm not getting Blake back. Haven't you been listening? I want to be alone. I miss my empty house. I miss the quiet. I don't need the bother."

"So you've said." She hollered back. "But I don't believe you."

"Why not? _Why not?_"

"Because you love her!"

Ron turned away, fingers clenched tight in his vibrant hair. "Don't you get it?" His voice broke. "That doesn't matter anymore. None of it matters."

"Of course it matters." Ginny scowled. "Why wouldn't it?"

Ron pulled harder at his hair, forcing his chin down to his chest. A tear slipped free of his eye and ran down his cheek. He muttered something in a strangled voice that Ginny couldn't understand.

"What was that?"

He let go of his hair and his hands fell dead to his side. "I said…I don't deserve her."

Ginny stepped back, stunned. "What?"

The air escaped his lungs in a painful rush. "I'm a bad father. She would be better off with someone else."

Ginny gapped at him in open mouthed disbelief. "What are you talking about? You're a fantastic father."

He shook his head. Another tear slid down his face.

"You are." She insisted, taking hold of his arm.

He continued to shake his head. "I'm not. Merlin, Gin," he held up a beseeching hand, "I don't even know is Bryony sleeps through the night."

"What has that to do with you and Blake?"

"Everything." Ron turned on her. "How can I be a good father if I don't appreciate the family I already have?"

"You appreciate us."

He shook his head, more adamantly this time. "No, Gin. I don't. If I did I would know if Bryony sleeps through the night, or if Fleur was over her morning sickness, or weather Fred has a steady girlfriend or not."

"I'm still not following you, Ron. What has this to do with anything?"

"These are basic things about our family. Why don't I know them?"

"You've been preoccupied."

He continued to shake his head, self-disgust evident in his frown. "That's still no excuse."

"Yes it is." She insisted. "You've had more important things to worry about then Fred's love life. And if anyone doesn't understand that…" Ginny stuttered to a stop, eyes widened with understanding. "Hermione doesn't understand that, does she? Ron." She took him by the shoulders and shook him slightly when he didn't answer. "Does she?"

"Well, she's right, isn't she?" He knocked her hands away using the side of his. "I don't deserve Blake. I'm not a good father. She'd be better off with someone else."

Ginny stood there staring at him. Her fingers curled into fists, the knuckles turning white. With one quick decision she abandoned all formal loyalty to her friend, her heart instantly hardened against her. She jutted her chin, her eyes gleamed with determination. "I'm going to kill her."

"Ginny!" Ron called after her retreating back. "Ginny, where are you going?"

"I'm going to tear her eyes out, that's where I'm going."

"Leave it alone, Gin."

"Not bloody likely." She whirled around. "If you think for one moment I'm going to let her talk to you that way…"

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"I wouldn't have too if you fought them yourself."

"Damn it, Ginny, I already know I'm a screw up!" He bellowed, turning on her. "You don't have to prove it to everyone else. Just leave it alone."

Fury flared behind her eyes strong enough to match his. "Did _she_ tell you that as well? That _you're _a screw up?" Ron turned away, lifting his hand to play absently with the binding of a book. "Ron," She said sternly. "Did Hermione tell you that?"

He had to clear his throat. "She made it quite clear that if I were a _real_ Auror I would have found Blake by now."

"Did she?" Ginny slowly nodded her head. "Did she really? That bitch."

Ron shook his head. "No. She's right. I failed, Ginny. I promised Blake I would never let anything happen to her." He turned back around. "And look at this. I don't know where she is. I don't know if she's safe. If she's scared. I actually let those people get their hands on her. I didn't stop them from stealing her away. Gin, she could be dead." His body shook with inner torment. Ginny rushed forward to fold her brother in her arms. His arms went around her like two steel bans, squeezing the air out of her as he buried his face in her shoulder. "I did this to her. It's my fault. If I had been more careful."

Ginny shushed him soothingly, running her fingers calmly and tenderly through his hair. "None of this is your fault, Ron. You didn't do anything wrong."

Ron's shoulders shook harder. "I killed her parents." His arms tightened, seeking more of the comfort she offered. "I thought I could be enough. I trusted Hermione to win our case. I didn't go after her. I never should have let those monsters get their hands on her."

"Ron," Ginny pulled back and took his face between her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me? You are a fantastic father and an amazing Auror. And if Hermione can't see that, she's a fool."

Ron shook his head. "She's not a fool."

"Then she's an idiot."

"No. I'm the idiot." He rubbed the back of his hand angrily under his eyes, removing what was left of his tears. "I let myself fall for her again. I keep doing this to myself. Why don't I learn? How could I have been so stupid? I should have seen this coming? I should have known I'd never be good enough for her."

"That's enough." Ginny shook him. "_That is enough. _What has she done to you? What happened to my confident, self-assured brother? The man who's led teams of Aurors into unimaginable danger without batting an eye? The decisive man who knew what he wanted and fought for it?"

Ron shrugged halfheartedly.

"Bloody hell." Ginny cursed, dropping her hands. "I am going to kill her." She turned and marched to the door, ready to apparate to the Ministry. "I'm going to kill her with my own hands."

"Gin," she whirled at the sound of her name, hands once again in fists. "Please." He begged. "Just leave it."

"Like hell I will. How dare she?" She stomped her foot. "How dare she do this to you again? Who does she think she is? Just wait until I get my hands on her. She'll wish she never left Spain."

"What are you going to do?"

"Don't you worry about that. You just concentrate on pulling yourself together so you can go back to work. Prove her wrong. Find Blake and bring her home. And if I find out you missed another day of work because of her," she said turning back to the door, "I'm coming after you."

* * *

"I don't care if I don't have an appointment." Parker slammed his hand down on the receptions desk. "I need to speak with him. Immediately."

"As I've already told you," the man said with a pleasant, though obviously annoyed voice, "without an appointment, I can't let you in to see him."

"Fine." Parker straightened to his full and intimidating height. "Then I guess I'll have to let myself in." He quickly stepped around the side of the desk, gently shoving the receptionist back in his seat when he made to stop him.

Parker knocked twice before opening the door, not bothering to wait for a response.

"I told you I didn't want to be disturbed, Peter." Triaquin Ceemist looked up from beneath his graying, bushy eyebrows. His lips turned down in a deep frown at the sight of Parker. "What are you doing?" He sat up when the Auror pulled his wand.

Without answering, Parker closed the door and warded it.

"Mr Gale." Ceemist gripped the edge of his desk. "What is the meaning of this?"

Parker shoved his wand back in his pocket before turning around. "Your Honor," he strode briskly forward. "I need you to file a formal complaint."

"Against you? Gladly."

There was a reflexive tensing in Parker's jaw. "Not against me, Your Honor. Against Carbonell Javed."

Ceemist's entire body tensed, coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. When he spoke, his voice was clipped and fast, the words stumbling over each other in his hurry to get them out. "Why would I file a formal complaint against Mr Javed? He's done nothing to me."

Parker crossed the gap that separated him and the Ministry official. He leaned his hands against the desk, tilting his body forward. "Your Honor, we know what's going on? We know he threatened you." He looked the old main pointedly in the eye. "I have my men ready," he said in a low voice. "At your word we'll have your wife moved to a secure location. I swear, we won't let anything happen to her. All I need from you is an official, formal complaint, against Carbonell Javed and his wife."

Something flickered behind Ceemist's eyes. His head began to shake, small movements back and forth that slowly grew more adamant. "I can't. My wife…my wife, she's all I have. I… I can't."

Parker felt himself softening towards the old man. That was naked pain he saw in his eyes. Pain and fear over losing the sole remaining member of his family. Harry's research had been nothing if not thorough. It might be well known that Ceemist lost family during the wars against Voldemort, but Parker would wager few knew the true extent of his loss.

His brother Herbert, his sister-in-law, Ansley, and their four children, had all died in a house attack during the first war. Both of his sons, Drew and Quentin, died defending their families after refusing to join the Death Eaters during the second. Betsy and Tori, their wives, had both fallen, along with Drew's son Peyton and Quentin's unborn child. Parker couldn't imagine the pain this old man had to live through every day. To lose nearly everyone you loved in such a brutal way had to be more agonizing then he could even imagine. Parker nodded with sad understanding. He couldn't blame this man for needing to protect his wife with every fiber of his being.

Parker took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax into a less intimidating pose. "I know you're scared, Sir. But you have to understand. It's my job to protect the innocent. You tell me what I need to know and I'll do everything in my power to protect you and your wife."

He could see the conflict raging in the old man's eyes. On the one hand, withholding testimony, siding with Death Eaters, presumably against his will, had to be completely against his nature. But that desire to do right, to mend the mess he had made, was over ridden by the desire to protect his wife from any and all danger.

The old man's eyes narrowed, but after several seconds of hard silence he shook his head. "No. I won't put my wife's life in danger. Don't ask me to do that."

"Triaquin," Parker used the man's first name, forgoing all formality. "The Javed's aren't coming after you. They have no power left. No influence. All their friends are in jail. Their family fortune is gone They've been selling off their heirlooms for years just to keep their heads above water. They need Blake's inheritance in order to flee the country. They would have fled days ago, but with Blake missing they haven't been able to get their hands on it. They know the Ministry is building a case against them and are desperate to flee before we coming knocking at their door."

"So what do you need me for? If I recall, at the trial Ms Granger said they were days away from arrest."

Parker bit down on his teeth, a growl of frustration escaping his chest. "Their file is missing."

"Missing?"

"It was one of the cases Ms Granger was working on before she was arrested for kidnapping. When it became clear she wasn't being released any time soon, her files were divided amongst her coworkers. Somewhere in the shuffle of reassignment, it got misplaced."

Ceemist's lips pursed with displeasure. "What a coincidence."

Parker nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

Ceemist was silent for a moment in thought. "So, they must still have at least one friend with enough power to get things done."

Parker sighed. He had hopped Ceemist's still sharp mind wouldn't have come to that conclusion. "If they do, they won't get past us."

"You can't know that."

"Yes," he said firmly. "I can. Your Honor, people _don't_ get past us. That's why we're considered the best at what we do."

"If you're the best, why haven't you found the Weasley baby yet?"

Parker stiffened with surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. "We've been banned from her case. Ministry policy. The Alphas are two close to some of the people involved."

Ceemist leaned forward, fingers thread together, hands braced on the desk. "Is that the only thing stopping you?"

A corner of Parker's lip twitched, his left brow quirked. "Who said anything was stopping me?"

He couldn't be sure, but for the briefest moment Parker swore he saw approval flash in the old man's eyes.

"Well," Ceemist, rose to his feet. "As informative as this has been, I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Triaquin," there was a slight edge to Parker's voice. "I know Carbonell Javed threatened you and your wife. I just need you to file an official complaint. He and Melantha are preparing to flee the country, and if we don't stop them before they do, we might never get the chance. Please Sir," Parker pleaded. "If you ever wanted to set things right with Captain Weasley, this would be the way to do it. We need this, Your Honor."

Triaquin bit at his bottom lip, internal dilemma clear on his face. "If you can guarantee no harm will come to my wife…" his voice faltered.

"I have men at your house waiting for my word. With your permission I can have your wife in our safe house in less than twenty minutes."

Ceemist stared deep into Parker's eyes for what felt like an eternity to the younger man, searching for something in the Auror's eyes. Honesty. Insurance. Confidence that everything was going to be alright. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found. He nodded once. "I'll talk. As soon as I know she's out of harm's way."

Parker nodded assertively. He turned and with a precise flick of his wand, a silver fox, so dazzlingly bright it hurt the eyes, erupted from the tip. "Find Stone. Tell him we have the go ahead. He'll know what to do."

The fox pranced in anticipation, waiting for the order that would set him free. When it came the fox took off in a graceful leap, disappearing through the solid wall.

Ceemist's mouth dropped, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Wh… Was that…?"

Parker's lips twitched into a smug smile. "Something Captain Weasley taught us." He lowered himself into one of the waiting seats. "We should have a response in a few minutes."

The two men sat quietly, Parker with his head bowed, brow furrowed, hands folded together. Ceemist staring at him contemplatively, one thumb rubbing his bottom lips unconsciously. He straightened suddenly in his seat, his hand landing on the arm of his chair with a loud thud. "I still don't understand how that file could have gone missing."

Parker leaned back, a malicious glare pinning Ceemist in his seat. "It wouldn't have happened if Hermione Granger hadn't been carted off." His lips turned into a deeper scowl. "They're looking to replace her."

"No one in her office is supporting her?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"At this juncture it hardly matters if they are. Her names been dragged through the mud. They've lost the most organized, productive member on their team. Even if they wanted to hold her job, the rest of the team can't pick up the slack. It's hardly fair to the rest of her co-workers to ask them to put in a little extra work. No, she needs to be replaced."

"You think she's being treated unfairly." Ceemist observed.

"Isn't she? Hermione Granger's gotten a hard deal all around. It seems unusually cruel to kick her when she's already down."

"Work needs to be done."

"And if the Betas followed protocol this wouldn't be an issue."

"What's this about the Betas?"

Before Parker could answer they were interrupted by the appearance of a raven shaped Protronus, gliding elegantly through the wall to land daintily on Parker's shoulder. The bird turned its shinny head so that its beak was beside Parker's ear. "Target secured." It said in a very official sounding voice. "Awaiting further instructions." The bird glimmered brighter for a moment then disappeared as if it had never been.

Parker removed his wand and repeating the exact motions as before, the silver fox mad a reappearance. "Tell Stone to proceed with Plan B."

When they were once again alone, Parker returned his focus to the Ministry Official. Ceemist stared back through wide eyes, completely confounded. He blinked a few times as he tried to regain his composure. "I didn't know communicating through Protronusus was possible."

Parker shrugged. "For most it's not. Your wife has been collected and relocated to our safe house. As soon as we're finished, you'll join her."

"And you're certain my wife is safe?"

"I would stake my life on it."

The man's shoulders sagged like a great weight had been taken off them. He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths, enjoying the relief that security gave him. "Very well, then." He nodded. "I'd like to file an official complaint."

Parker shifted in his seat, thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled a roll of parchment and a Quick-Quotes Quill from its depth. He smoothed the parchment on the desk and set the Quill. Nodding slightly with satisfaction he began, "This is Parker Bartholomew Gale, Alpha Squad. Official complaint and testimony of Triaquin Ignatius Ceemist, Ministry Official and Mugwump." Parker caught the other man's frightened eyes and nodded reassuringly. "Whenever you're ready, Sir."


	23. Me over Them

Hello Everyone.

I know, I know. I've kept you all waiting a long time for this. I am so sorry about that. Really and truly. Please don't think I didn't work on this as much as I could. I did. But I was a little busy working on a play. As some of you know I studied theatre in school as well as literature. It was my life for the longest time. I haven't been able to work on a play since I graduated and I finally got the chance. I was asked to come back and help my old school with their eighth grade production of Robin Hood. It was so much fun but very time consuming and very tiring. When I got home at night I didn't have the energy to make myself go through the chapter and make corrections. But I'm done now. So until I manage to get a job I should hopefully have more time. I say that a lot, don't I? I'm a terrible person. But as it is, I think this chapter is ready to be sent out.

For all of you who took the time to review, I want to thank you once again. I sincerely adore everyone I get and love being in correspondence with you.

So, after all of that, here's the next chapter. I hope you all like it. If you don't let me know too. Tell me what it is that bothered you. I really want to know. Thanks again and Happy Reading, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Me over Them

Ginny reappeared in an alley a short distance away from the visitor's entrance to the Ministry. Too angry to wait and see if any Muggles had noticed her sudden appearance, she yanked open the door to the old telephone booth, punched in 62442 before the door was fully closed, and growled the purpose of her visit to the obnoxiously pleasant voice on the other end of the line.

When the name badge clinked into the coin return, she shoved it in her pocket, too wound up to be fussed with pinning it to her clothes.

With a lethal glare on her bright red face, Ginny made it quickly through the atrium, most witches and wizards being smart enough to move out of her way when they saw her. Those who weren't, got a sharp reprimand and escaped, miraculously, not knowing how close they had come to being hexed.

The time it had taken to get to the Ministry had done nothing to cool her temper. If anything, the journey had made it worse. In the lift the other riders shied away from her and the angry heat that radiated off her in waves, and in some cases even got off on the wrong floor to escape her volatile presences.

When she finally reached her floor, she forced her way through the grates before they were fully open, and into the busy corridor. She looked around with a calculating eye and caught the first Auror she spotted by the collar, whipping him around until he was facing her.

The man's eyes widened in a mingled look of shock and a hint of fear. Ginny's fingers curled tighter as she pulled him closer, their noses nearly touching. "I'm here to see Hermione Granger." She bit out. "Now."

Recovering from his initial shock, the man pried his robes out of her grasp and took a precautionary step back, putting a safe distance between them, before frowning at Ginny with the same look of disapproval as he would a petulant child. He tugged his robes back into place as he squared his shoulders. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Hermione Granger is a…"

"I didn't ask if it was possible," Ginny interrupted. "Take me to her now."

"If you're not an Auror," he looked her over, making it clear he understood that was not even a possibility, "you must be preapproved by the Ministry." He grimaced at her smugly. "I very much doubt you've been approved."

Oblivious to the crowd beginning to gather, Ginny growled "I don't have time for this." and pushed past the arrogant man.

"Hold on a minute." His fingers curled around her arm and pulled her to a stop. "Where do you think you're going?"

Ginny yanked her arm free. "I'm going to see my husband. Is that alright? Or do I have to be Ministry approved first?"

The man rolled his eyes with annoyance, clearly at the end of his patience. "Ma'am, you're mad if you think I'm going to let you past to see your _husband_, just so you can sneak off to the holding cells. You'll need to do better than that."

"I don't need to sneak off to the holding cells. My husband will escort me."

"Enough of this." He said sharply. "You don't have a husband in this department and you're not getting past me. So turn around and go home before I call Ministry security."

"Charlie!" one of the bystanders stepped away from the increasing crowd. "I'll handle this" A slender woman pushed her way to the front of the crowd and crossed briskly to where the Auror and Ginny were still glaring at each other. The man only turned his glare away from Ginny and onto the other Auror when she was standing next to them. "It's alright Charlie," she said putting a hand on his upper arm, "I got this."

With a smile on her face the woman turned and extended a hand to Ginny. "It's wonderful to see you again Mrs Potter." Ginny took her hand and shook it curtly before letting it drop. Beside her, Charlie's eyes widened in horror. "I'm afraid your husband's in class right now. But I would be happy to assist you in the mean time. Adelaide Carter, Gamma Squad." She stepped back and made a sweeping motion with her hand. "If you'll come this way?"

Ginny glared pointedly at the man, titling her chin up triumphantly as she passed the now embarrassed Charlie.

"Don't think too poorly of him, Mrs Potter." Adelaide said as she led her into the heart of the chaos that made up the Auror office. "Charlie's a stickler for protocol. His hearts in the right place."

Ginny humphed, staying close to her guide, aware that she could very easily get lost in the seemingly never ending maze of cubicles. Just when she thought she couldn't be any more disoriented, the Auror stepped into one of the work stations and offered Ginny her seat.

When Ginny was seated, Adelaide turned and leaned against her desk, ankles and arms crossed comfortably. "Now, how can I help you Mrs Potter?"

Ginny squared her shoulders, readying herself for another battle. "I need to see Hermione Granger."

"I see." Adelaide twitched her lips from side to side, her eyes focused in thought. "Hmm. Well, I can't make any promises…" Ginny began to protest, "but," she held up a hand to quiet her, "if you wait here, and you promise to _behave_…, I'll see what I can do."

"Fine," the redhead sat back in her chair, arms crossed defiantly, one leg over the other, foot bouncing with irritation. "But if you take too long I'm going without you."

Adelaide frowned at her from beneath arched brows. "Stay put." She said pointedly before she turned and disappeared into the confusion outside her office.

Huffing with annoyance, Ginny sat back in her seat. After several minutes of trying not to tap her toe she got up and made a slow inspection of the office. One thing was abundantly clear, Adelaide Carter was a perfectionist. Her little cubicle was spotless. Everything was labeled and alphabetized and quiet obviously in its designated place. There was no clutter. No interesting artwork to liven up the place. No sense of personality at all. Hermione would approve.

And with that involuntary thought the anger that was just beginning to ebb roared back to life with new vengeance, blocking out all thoughts but how good it would feel to avenge her brother.

What had she been thinking? She should have trusted Ron and his judgment from the very beginning. Who better to assess the situation between him and Hermione then him? She should have backed off when he told her too. If she hadn't pushed him so hard, if she hadn't badgered Hermione into giving it another go, Ron wouldn't be suffering like he was now.

And to make matters worse, as angry as she was with Hermione, she was even more disgusted with herself, which only fed her anger and perpetuated the cycle. So much so that by the time Adelaide came back to tell her that she had been approved and could see Hermione, she responded with no more than a grunt. She had allowed her anger such free reign that when the door to the interrogation room opened, she didn't realize what she had done until she felt the sharp tingle of sting in her hand.

Hermione stared back at her through wide, brown eyes, one hand held tenderly to her flaming cheek. The rest of her face turned white as the blood rushed to the place where her skin burned. She stared at Ginny for a silent minute, taking in everything from her stance, to the angry heat in her face to the intense fury igniting her eyes. She tilted her shin up a fraction. "I see you've spoken with Ron, then."

Ginny's fingers curled into fists at Hermione's indifference "You're just lucky they took my wand."

Hermione nodded, subdued. "That's probably true."

"That's probably true? _That's probably_ _true_?" Ginny took another step towards Hermione but forced herself to stop. "You're a real bitch, do you know that? You are the most horrible, spiteful, vindictive, coldhearted, manipulative hag I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

Hermione turned her gaze away. "Is that so?" She let her hand drop. There was the distinct outline of Ginny's hand, pale white against the enflamed skin.

"Yes, that's so. How could you do this to Ron?"

"I haven't done anything to Ron."

"You told him he was a failure!"

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"I don't seem to recall that." She looked at Ginny out of the corner of her eye. "When exactly was this?"

"Are you going to try and stand there and tell me you didn't tell Ron he doesn't deserve to be a father?"

"No." She turned back to Ginny. "I'm not. I did technically say that to him."

"How could you lie to him like that?"

Hermione shrugged. "Do you really think I'm wrong?"

Ginny tensed, ready to launch herself across the room at the other woman.

Hermione threw up her hand to block her if she did. "I'm not the one you're angry at." She yelled, stopping Ginny in her tracks.

"Care to place a wager?" She began stalking the brunette. For every step she took forward, Hermione took one back, hands still raised against her.

"You're angry," Hermione said, "I get that." Somehow she managed to put the table between her and the redhead and to keep it there, "But you know as well as I do that what I said was true."

"True?" Ginny snarled, slamming her hands down on the table. "You told Ron he was a bad father."

"No," she held up a finger. "I didn't. I _asked_ him, what made him think he _deserved_ to be a father, seeing as he obviously doesn't appreciate the family he already has?"

"You are unbelievable!" Ginny threw up her hands. "Ron is going through the most difficult time in his life and you expect him to know if Fred's got himself a girlfriend? By Merlin, he does have his priorities mixed up. How _dare_ a father be more concerned for his child's safety and return then his brother's love life? How can he live with himself? Who the bloody hell cares if Fred has a girlfriend?"

"I'm sure Fred cares very much."

"Fred's not important right now."

"Try telling him that."

Again Ginny slammed her hands down on the table, this time with a growl. "This isn't about Fred. This is about Ron and what _you_ said to him."

With an annoyed sigh, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her hip out to the side in an insolent pose. "And what exactly did I say to Ronald that was so bad?"

"He said you called him a screw up."

Hermione shook her head. "I never used those words."

"You told him a real Auror would have found Blake by now."

"Actually, I believe I told him he wasted a week he could have spent looking for Blake, trying to see me, when I clearly did not want to see him. You know as well as I do that Ron get's so wrapped up in his own misery that he doesn't see that there are people around him. People who love him and care about him and who would do absolutely _anything_ for him. And despite his neglect, he has a family who can, and _will_, help him find her, all he has to do is ask."

"How dare you turn this around and put all the blame on him?"

Hermione lowered her head with a sigh. "I should have known you would be blinded by family loyalty."

Ginny snorted. "What? Did you think I would take your side in this?"

"I had hoped you'd see reason."

"There is no _reason_ where my brother's heart is concerned. Do you have any idea what you've done to him?"

"I'm sure I don't." Hermione turned away, giving Ginny her back.

"He's tearing his house apart, Hermione. All of Blake's things are packed away. When I arrived this afternoon to talk to him he was dismantling her cot. He says he doesn't want her back. He say's _you're_ right, and that he doesn't deserve to be a father. He thinks she'd be better off with someone else." Ginny waited for Hermione to respond, to give any indication that Hermione felt any remorse for what he words had wrought. When there was none Ginny lost what little control she had. She flew around the table, took Hermione by the shoulders, and shoved her painfully against the wall, holding her there. "Don't you get it?" She shook her. "He's stopped trying? He's not going to look for her anymore."

Something passed by Hermione's eyes, but Ginny didn't understand it. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and latched on. Slowly her eyes drew level with Ginny's. "What do you want me to do about it?" She asked.

Ginny released her. Her hands fell numbly to her side. She stepped back, shaking her head with disbelief. "Nothing. Clearly, your heart is made of ice."

Hermione tilted her chin up. "You wouldn't be the first Weasley to suggest it."

"How can you be so cold?"

"I said what he needed to hear."

Ginny shook her head. "You really don't understand how much damage you've done, do you? Ron's broken. _You broke him._ He's spent the last five years trying to get over you, to fix all the damage _you_ did. And in one day, _one day,_" she held up a finger,"you've completely destroyed him. I don't understand what you've done, or why you're doing it, but you're clearly not the person I thought you were. I can't believe I ever thought you and Ron were meant to be. He was right from the beginning. I should have left things alone. You cause him nothing but heartache. You're like a disease that'll never go away. But, you're going to try. Do you understand? You stay away from my brother. And you stay away from me." She stepped back several paces, putting as much space as she could between them. "You're no longer welcome in my home. If you ever manage to get yourself out of this mess, you can find yourself someplace else to stay. I'll send you're things any place you want, but you are never to step foot in my house again."

"Gin…" Hermione reached a hand out when she turned her back, but let it drop limply at her side.

Ginny closed her eyes against the pain she thought she heard in the other woman's voice. "I wish you had never left Spain."

Hermione closed her eyes as she turned her face away.

Moments after she knocked the door opened and Ginny was let out of the room.

When the door banged closed Hermione sagged against the wall. Her knees started to buckle beneath her. She lurched for the nearest chair. Body trembling, she collapsed onto the seat. With a last shaky breath her fortitude shattered, bending over the table, she buried her face in her arms, and wept. Her entire body heaved with every gasp, heavy tears slid from her eyes and soaked the sleeves of her robes.

"That's quite a show you put on."

Hermione bit into her arm to keep from screaming. "Go away." The moaned, the words a muffled gasp.

Jillian smiled down with satisfaction at Hermione's bent head. "You really pulled a number on him. On both of them. She hates you almost as much as he does. You have no idea how satisfying that was to watch."

Hermione pulled her head, eyes narrowed with loathing. "Don't you have anything better to do?" Her cheek was still bright red, the fading imprint of Ginny's hand.

"Nope." She said brightly. "Not until you give me what I need."

"I didn't do anything wrong." She bit out each word.

"That's not for you to decide." Jillian glided forward. She sat on the corner of the table. She crossed one leg over the other toward Hermione. "What's it like?" Hermione stared at her blankly. "To have the person you love despise you so much?" The brunette cringed into herself. "Because he really hates you… You know that, don't you? He despises you."

Hermione took several breaths to compose herself, but couldn't bring her emotions under control. Her voice trembled despite her efforts. "What do I care if he hates me?"

"Oh," Jillian leaned toward Hermione, all her weight braced on one hand. "I think you care very much." She used a finger to wipe a stray tear from Hermione's cheek.

Hermione hit her hand away. "Don't touch me."

Jillian stared at the tear clinging to her finger tip. "So the Ice Princess feels after all."

Hermione turned her face away, eyes closed. "Leave me alone." She breathed.

"What are you going to do about it, Granger? Have one of your best friends come after me? Weasley, you're great defender? He's never coming back. You've made sure of that."

"Harry…"

"Is _far_ too busy with Ministry work to be concerned with _you_."

Hermione threw her head up, eyes narrowed shrewdly. "What do you mean by that?"

Jillian sat back away from Hermione, ignoring her in favor of her painted nails.

"Oldham," Hermione snapped. "What did you mean by that?"

The Auror buffed her nails against her robes before looking at them again. "I decided after that stunt Weasley pulled yesterday that my entire squad needed a refresher course." She finally looked at Hermione, a smile returning to her lips when she saw the furious flush on Hermione's face. "It was somewhat ironic and almost poetic, I must admit, that I got the idea from Weasley. That alone was almost enough for me to reconsider. But then I realized, the prospect of having Potter out of my hair _and_ proving to him that I don't hate him was just too good to pass up."

"I knew it." The words were as soft as a breath.

"Yes, yes." Jillian rolled her eyes. "You're so smart. So clever. You've outwitted us all." She hopped off the table so that she could stand over Hermione. She placed one hand on the table and one on the back of Hermione's chair, caging her in. "Why are you still fighting me, Granger?" Jillian's voice was low enough that anyone who might be listening couldn't here. "You've proven Weasley didn't have anything to do with the kidnapping. We know you did it. Why don't you just confess and put yourself out of this misery. Maybe then Weasley will hear what you did for him and he'll forgive you…Not that it would do you much good, seeing as you'll be in prison…but at least there will be one less thing to torment you."

Hermione clamped down on her teeth, eyes blazing, struggling violently inside not to lose control and let Jillian Oldham win. Her nostrils flared with each labored breath. Her body burned with hatred for the other woman. Her finger curled into the underside of her seat, her nails bit into the wood, her knuckles turned white. She had never hated anyone so much before in her life.

Struggling to control every syllable, she spoke slowly, forcing her voice to sound calm. "If we're finished, I'd like to go back to my cell."

Responding with frustration, Jillian stepped back and away from Hermione. She glared down at her prisoner with hate filled eyes. "I hope you haven't grown too attached to your current accommodations. We're moving you to a new location."

Hermione slammed a hand down on the table. "You can't keep holding me. It's against the law."

"Actually," Jillian smirked. "I can." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bit of folded parchment. "Why did you have to go and force my hand, Granger? Getting people to start questioning me?" She tossed the packet onto the table. It slid to a stop between Hermione's hands. "We're formally charging you with the Blythe Baby kidnapping."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. Her mouth fell open. "You can't do that." She jumped to her feet, fumbling to unfold the parchment as she did. She quickly scanned the document, looking up at her tormenter when she finished. The parchment crumpled between her fingers. "You have nothing without my confession."

"That's for the courts to decide. Of course, you could make my job a lot easier if…"

"Never." Hermione snapped. "You'll never get a confession out of me. Never."

Jillian shrugged dismissively. "We'll see." She turned and made her way to the open door. "We'll reopen this topic in a few days, after you've had some more time to think." She stopped in the doorway to look back at Hermione. "A think a few days will be more than adequate to loosen your tongue."

Hermione sank onto her chair. Carefully, so as not to rip the parchment, she smoothed out the creases and bent her head to read it again.

Before she could get halfway through, four men she didn't know, but immediately recognized for what they were, stepped into the room. Every muscle in her body screamed with fear and tension as they moved to surround her. "Am I…" She had to swallow past her terror. "Am I really so dangerous that I need four of you to come and retrieve me?"

One of the four men looked down at her apologetically. "Captain Oldham requested a full escort."

Hermione nodded. "Because one of you wouldn't be humiliating enough."

The man frowned as he offered her hand to help her up. "For what it's worth, it's a real honor to meet you, Ms Granger."

Hermione blinked back her tears as she forced her chin into a defiant angel. "Thank you."

He stepped back to let her by. "If you'll come with us?"

Hermione snatched up the parchment and shoved it in her pocket before turning to the door. She stopped just inside the frame, one hand resting on the smooth wood for support. "Are…" It was hard to speak around the lump of fear in her throat. "Are the rumors true?"

"What rumors, Ms Granger?"

She had to swallow again. "Are there still Dementors patrolling Azkaban?"

The man sighed. "Not as many as before. But yes."

She stood there a moment, silent and still, combating the fear threatening to annihilate her. Images of third year flooded her mind. The icy feeling of despair that washed over you. The things the Dementors had the power to make you remember. She could see clearly Sirius Black in her mind, remember distinctly how he had never fully recovered from his time. How even now Hagrid didn't like to speak of his short stint in the wizard prison. "Thank you." Her voice cracked. "For being honest with me."

"Ms Granger," the man sounded truly upset, though Hermione couldn't bring herself to turn and look at him out of fear that even the smallest movement would cause her to break down and lose control.

"Yes?"

"I'll do everything I can to make your stay more comfortable."

Hermione said nothing, but nodded. Without another word she stepped into the hall and the Azkaban guards followed.

* * *

Harry apperated into Number Twelve's front foyer, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. He hated giving refresher courses. Licensed Aurors were so much more difficult than new recruits. They never listened to what he had to say and assumed that because they worked in the field, and he didn't, that they knew more than him. Which was just ridiculous. Just because he wasn't a regular in the field didn't mean he didn't see action every now and again. Besides that, Ron and he regularly sat down to discuss his cases. It was something they had started when they had first become Aurors. They would discus every detail of an assignment. What happened? What went wrong? What went right? What could or should have been done differently. The original idea was that they could learn from each other's mistakes if a similar situation ever cropped up again. Now, with his position as an instructor he used what he learned from Ron to help train the recruits, hopefully making them better field agents.

Besides the new techniques and protocol he had to teach the current Aurors, the Betas were simply getting sloppy. So much so that he was glad Captain Oldham had done the responsible thing and sent her team his way. They needed his refresher course, and badly. It felt like it took forever today to get to the new stuff because he had to go back and fix the problems that had developed out of laziness. It was maddening.

Sighing, Harry shook his cloak off his shoulders and hung it in the hall closet. He didn't know what Hermione had been thinking. There was nothing really wrong with Jillian Oldham. True she was ignoring a few of the Ministry's rules and guidelines, but she was an old school Auror. It would take her time to adjust to the way the Ministry was run now. Besides, he had had a perfectly pleasant conversation with her yesterday when she came to him requesting he lead her team in their refresher courses.

With another sigh Harry glanced down at his watch and groaned. He hadn't realized he was so late. The Betas took much longer then they should have, which meant he hadn't been able to leave the Ministry to follow a lead on Blake's case until nearly the end of the work day. Sadly, his lead had turned up cold, but he felt better for having done something.

But still, he winced at the time on his wristwatch, he should have let Ginny know he was going to be late. She was going to be furious.

"Ginny!" He called into the quiet house. A quick look around the first floor showed most of the lights were out. "Gin?" He caught the scent of food in the air and followed it to the kitchen.

He pushed open the door. Using his wand he illuminated the room and groaned. A cold bowl of stew and a hunk of bread sat at the head of the table. He had definitely missed dinner. But that wasn't what made him groan. Left abandoned on the counter was a slap of butcher-block, the meat cleaver and mallet.

Harry let the door swing closed. Shite. This wasn't good. He knew the signs by now. It was never good when Ginny got out the meat mallet. It could only mean one thing. She was really and truly hacked off.

Dread rising inside him, Harry turned and fearfully began the search for his wife. Normally when the mallet and cleaver came out Harry knew to stay well away and let her take her aggression out on the meat, instead of on him, while he took care of the children and other house hold chores he could find. There was no point talking to Ginny when she had the mallet in her hand. All she seemed to notice was the raw meat and the satisfying thwack sound the mallet made with contact. Apparently, it was very therapeutic.

Now, more often than not, Harry was the cause of his wife's anger. They were still a newly married couple. They were bound to get on each other's nerves every now and again. But then again, normally he knew what he had done wrong. Today he was clueless.

When he left for work this morning Ginny had been reasonably happy, all things considered. And yes, he realized he was terribly late for dinner, but the fact that she used the mallet instead of magically tenderizing the meat suggested she had been angry before she started. Which meant it couldn't be his fault, which meant something else had happened to upset his wife.

When his search of the first floor came up empty he climbed the stairs to the next story. "Ginny!" He called when he reached the landing.

"Harry?" She called from the room at the end of the hall. Hermione's room. His eyes furrowed. "Harry, would you come give me a hand with this?"

Quickening his step, Harry hurried down the hall and into his best friend's room. "Ginny," he gapped. "What are you doing?"

Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder as she looked back at him. "I'm stealing a page from the book of Ron."

"You're what?" He stared at her bewildered.

"Stealing a page from the book of Ron." She repeated, turning back around. "I can't believe I ever let that woman inside my house." She flicked her wand and clothes flew from the wardrobe, across the room and into Hermione's trunk, landing in a messy pile that would make Hermione cringe. "When I'm through with this will you bring it up to the attic and put it with the rest of her things?"

"Ginny," Harry went to her, putting halting hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face him. "What is going on here?"

Ginny huffed. "I'll tell you what's going on. I'm packing up _her_ things."

"I can see that. But why?"

"Why? _Why?_" Her voice rose a few octaves. "I'll tell you why? That woman…" She jabbed him in the chest. "That woman did it again." She pulled her hair angrily out of her face. "If you only knew what she said to him. I can't believe she actually said…it's ridiculous…do you hear me? Ridiculous. Ron is the best. Do you hear me? The best! I could strangle her." Her fingers reflexively curled. "Tear her apart piece by piece, I'm so angry. Can you _believe _her?"

"Ginny," Harry shook his head, bewildered. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about that bitch who use to live here."

"Yes, yes…I've gathered that. But what exactly has she done that's got you so mad?"

"What has she done? _What has she done? _I'll tell you what she did. She broke my brother's heart. Again! She ripped it out of his chest! She crushed it between her…"

"I get the picture." Harry places a hand over both of hers which were simulating a heart being crushed between them. "Ginny, you have to _tell _me what she did, because I'm completely lost here. I thought Hermione wasn't seeing Ron?"

"She wasn't."

"Then how…?"

"Use your brain, Harry." Ginny snapped. "How do you think?" She banished more clothes into the trunk. They landed in a crumpled heap. Hermione would throw a fit if she saw how careless Ginny was being. "Ron got tired of her refusing to see him so he lied and got in. Keep up with me, please."

"I'm trying. But you have to help me here, Gin. I can't read your mind."

Ginny glared at him. "I know that." Another pile of clothes flew across the room. Harry ducked as a wooden hanger came loose and nearly hit his head. Clearly the mallet hadn't done the job.

"Great." He said coming up behind her and holding her hand when she made to banish more clothes. He gently, but forcefully, lowered her wand arm as he turned her to face him. He placed his hands calmly on her shoulders. "Why don't you take a couple of deep breaths?" Glaring with annoyance, she inhaled mockingly. Harry sighed. "And start at the beginning. Try and help me understand."

Ginny let her breath rush out her nose. "Fine. From the beginning?"

Harry nodded. "From the beginning."

"Alright. I was in the kitchen." She crossed the room to the bed and sat down. "Si made a mess. There was spaghetti everywhere. I was cleaning up when Parker Gale floo called me. He was concerned because Ron didn't come into work today."

"You know," Harry said sitting down next to her and taking her hand. "I think I heard someone mention that at work. But I dismissed it. Ron doesn't miss work."

"Exactly! Exactly my point." She said getting excited again. "That's why Parker asked me to go to his house and check on him."

"And did you?"

"Yes, of course. And Harry, I've never seen him like this before." She released his hand so that she could get to her feet. "This was so much worse than last time." She turned to face him. "He's devastated, Harry. He's packed all Blake's things away. He asked me if I knew anyone in need of a cot. Don't you get it?" She asked indignantly when Harry didn't immediately respond. "He says he doesn't want Blake back. And do you want to know why? Because Hermione told him he doesn't deserve to be a father."

"She what?"

"Yeah." She said indignantly. "Hermione said he doesn't deserve to be a father. And why? Why, might you ask? Because she said he doesn't appreciate the family he already has. Can you believe that? He doesn't appreciate us? He appreciates us just fine. As if we don't understand what he's going through. At least _some _of us understand. Nothing, I repeat, nothing, is more important to a parent then their child. Am I right?"

"Of course." Harry agreed. "Nothing."

"Exactly my point." She let her hand come down on her thigh with a smack. "I mean, what's more important? Ron focusing on Blake's case? Or keeping up with Fred's love life?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"It shouldn't be. But for some reason, that _I_ will never understand, Hermione thinks Ron let us all down because he doesn't know a few trivial facts about us."

"Wait, wait, wait." Harry waved his hands. "Are you trying to tell me that Hermione told Ron he doesn't deserve to be a father because he didn't ask Fred if he has a girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"That's ridiculous."

Ginny opened up her hands as if to say, what have I been telling you.

Harry shook his head, bewildered. "But that doesn't make any sense." He murmured.

"Thank you." Ginny started pacing again.

"And Ron believes her?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That was just one of the factors. Apparently he lets us down because he didn't know if Bryony was sleeping through the night, and he let Fleur down because he doesn't ask her about her morning sickness."

Harry's brow furrowed with concentration. "Huh." He slumped forward. "That just doesn't sound right."

"You're telling me."

"No, I mean, that doesn't sound like Hermione at all." Ginny gapped at him. "I'm just saying it doesn't make sense. Hermione was just as focused on Blake's case as Ron was. More so. I doubt she could even answer those questions."

"See!" Ginny said with satisfaction. "She's a hypocrite as well."

"Maybe." Harry frowned. "Hmm…" He looked lost in thought, bent forward, arms braced on his knees, eyes narrowed.

"Hmm, what?"

Harry glanced up. "Nothing." Ginny crossed her arms at him. "Nothing really." He assured her. "I was just thinking about the last time I talked to her."

"What about it."

"I don't know." Harry shrugged. "It's just…now that I think about it… she might have mentioned Fred that day as well."

"So?" Ginny folded her arms.

"So…" Harry sat up. "It might be nothing, but… and I was just thinking…I'm almost certain she mentioned Fred. Something about how Fred and George can accomplish things no one else can… or something. I don't remember exactly."

"Again I ask, so?"

"So…she specifically mentioned Fred to me…and she specifically mentioned Fred to Ron…"

"And you think she did that on purpose?"

"Well," he shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe."

"Please." Ginny snorted. "I think you're grasping."

"No, think about it. Let's try and look beyond the obvious. What if she was trying to send us a message?"

Ginny continued to snicker. "And what was she trying to tell you? That Fred was her accomplice? He was with us that night at the Burrow. Remember? He couldn't have done it."

"You're right, he couldn't have. But maybe she told Fred something she didn't tell the rest of us."

"And you honestly think Fred would have kept it a secret all this time? When he's seen firsthand how much this is killing Ron?"

"Good point." Harry conceded, leaning forward again.

"Face it, Harry. Hermione isn't who you thought she was. She fooled us all."

"Yeah may- wait." He sat up. "What did you say?"

"I said, Hermione isn't who you thought she was."

"No, no. After that?"

Ginny arched a brow. "She fooled us all?"

Harry's eyes grew wide. A thousand thoughts raced through his head, some of them fitting together and beginning to make sense. "I think you're right." He stood up, a smile appearing at the corner of his lips. "I think you're absolutely right. Maybe she did."

"Maybe she did, what?"

"Fool us all."

Ginny threw up her hands. "I just said that."

"Yes you did." Harry wagged his finger at her excitedly. "But I think you got _what_ she fooled us about wrong." He spun on his heel and hurried from the room, leaving her behind.

Ginny stared after him a moment, completely mystified, before she took off I pursuit. "Harry! Where are you going?"

"The Ministry. I need to speak with Hermione." He was almost to the bottom of the staircase.

She jerked to a stop. "You have got to be joking."

"No." He turned back to her. "I think we might be on to something. All this time Hermione was trying to send us a message. Why didn't I see it before?" He turned excitedly for the door. "I need to go and talk to her. I need to figure out what she was trying to tell us."

"Harry!" She took after him. "Harry, stop. You can't do this." She sped up when he didn't slow down. She flew down the stairs and somehow managed to get past him and put herself between him and the door. She put up her hands, pushing firmly against his chest, trying to move him back. "You are not going down there."

"Ginny, I have to."

"No, you don't." She gave his chest a forceful shove, knocking him back a few steps. "I can't believe you'd even consider going down there after what she did to Ron."

"If I'm right, going down there and speaking with her is going to _help_ Ron."

"And what if you're wrong?"

"I really don't think I am."

"But what if you are? Are you prepared to pick _her_ over Ron? Because that's what you're doing. That's how he's going to see it. You're taking her side over his."

Harry shook his head. "That's not how it will be."

"It is," she insisted, "and you know it. There's always sides with them, Harry. Hers and his. That's the way it's always been. How it will always be. Especially after what happened yesterday."

Harry shook his head harder with denial. "I won't take sides, Gin."

"You don't have a choice."

Anger flashed behind his green eyes, lighting up his face. "I won't do it, Ginny. I won't pick between my brother and my sister. That's what you're asking me to do, and I won't."

"I'm not _asking _you to do anything. Ron really _is_ your brother. _He's_ family."

"And Hermione _really is_ my sister." He said, losing the last of his patience. "She and Ron have been a part of my family for a lot longer then you have. I won't abandon her now because she and Ron got in a fight. Don't ask me to choose sides, Ginny, because I can't."

Ginny stared at him threw wet eyes. Her lip trembled as she lowered her head, hiding her face from his sight. "And yet," she turned away from him, "you just did."

"Ginny," Harry reached out for her but she evaded his touch.

"I know how important they are to you, Harry." Her voice broke. "But I'm your wife." She blinked fiercely, trying to stop her tears. She placed a hand over her heart. "One day you're going to have to pick me over them. Our marriage is going to have to mean more to you, or we can't..."

"Ginny…"

Shaking her head she stepped past him and quickly climbed the stairs, ignoring his call.

Harry stood there frozen, watching his wife's retreating back, indecision warring inside of him. His first instinct was to go after her. To apologize for being the thick, emotionally challenged, idiot he sometimes was, and beg her forgiveness. Another part of him warned to stay away out of sense of self-preservation. She more than likely didn't want to see him and would probably hex him if she did. And another, very strong, part of him told him to go down to the Ministry and talk to Hermione immediately, before any more time was wasted.

He knew he was right. Hermione simply had to be trying to communicate with them. It was the only thing that came close to explaining her bizarre behavior. True, Hermione was known to attack ferociously, but only when she felt backed into a corner or provoked beyond bearing. She was never downright cruel. He needed to speak with her, and as soon as possible. He needed the chance to figure this all out.

He looked up at the darkened hallway above. But Hermione and Ron could wait until tomorrow. One more night in a holding cell wouldn't do Hermione any harm. And now that he was certain she was behind Blake's disappearance, he could rest, well assured, that she was being taken good care of. Right now, he needed to comfort his wife.

He started climbing the steps, working out in his mind just what exactly he was going to say to her.

God, he loved her. More than he had ever thought humanly possible. Sometimes the joy and wonder of it, of knowing that she was his, all his, and that she loved him as much as he loved her, it was so overwhelming it was almost painful. Yes, Ron and Hermione had been the most important people in his life for a very long time. He had never hidden the fact. How could he? Ginny had known him almost as long as he had known them. But, he thought she knew that things were different now. She and Sirius James and Bryony, they were the most important thing in his world. He loved them all more than he had ever dreamed possible.

And yet, he couldn't abandon his friends. It was his instinct to protect. To try and pay them back, in any way he could, for all the times they had sacrificed and risked their lives for him. If it weren't for Ron and Hermione he wouldn't be alive today to be having these issues at all. He owed them. He owed them everything. And the fact that he had been able to do nothing for either of them now was killing him. Hermione had asked him for one thing. To set things right, and he was failing her. Her and Ron. And until he spoke with her he couldn't begin to know how to make things right.

But his issues would have to wait. He could deal with his inadequacies for one night. He tentatively opened the door to his and Ginny's room. She was already in bed, curled up on the far edge of her side, facing away toward the wall.

Without saying a word Harry undressed and climbed in on his side. He moved behind his wife, she stiffened as he drew closer, and wrapped his arm around her waist, curling his body protectively around her. He pressed his lips tenderly to her shoulder. "I love you, Ginny." He gently pulled her hair back off her face. "I will always pick you first, I swear." He rested his cheek lightly against hers as he pulled her tighter against his chest. "I'm just an idiot with a saving people complex. And it's killing me that I can't save both of them. But that's no excuse for making you feel second to them. You're not. Not even close. Old habits just die hard, you know?"

He waited for Ginny to respond. To either tell him to go to hell or at the very least move to his own side of the bed. When she remained stiff and quiet he sighed. He loosened his hold around her, preparing to move away and let her be, when she grabbed his arm and held it firmly in place. Relieved that she had at least forgiven him that much, he settled in around her, closing his eyes and savoring the way her warm body fit so perfectly with his.

He knew this wasn't over. Ginny knew he would go to Hermione tomorrow and he knew she wouldn't he happy about it. She might even be furious. But for at least tonight, she knew that he loved her and put her first.

* * *

Parker didn't bother with normal appirating protocol. He didn't aim for the front garden. He didn't knock on the door. He appeared right in the middle of Ron's front foyer with as much noise as he could manage. "Ron!" He shouted into the quiet house. "Ron Weasley, you get your pale white arse down here right now. Ron!" He continued to bellow his partner's name at the top of his lungs until he heard the sound of a door opening to his right.

"What do you want, Parker?" Ron stood in the doorway to his office, one hand holding the handle, body tensed as if ready to slam it shut at a moment's notice.

"Come on." He clapped his hands at Ron. "We got to get going. The team's waiting."

Ron's brow arched with confusion. "The team's waiting for what?" He glanced at his watch. "It's nearly eight o-clock."

"I know what time it is. We got'to go. If we wait much longer we might miss them."

"We might miss who?"

An eager smile slipped across his lips, drawing attention to the manic excitement sparkling in his eyes. He rubbed his hands together, to keyed up to stand still. "We're going after them, Ron."

"Them?"

Parker widened his eyes encouraging Ron to come to the answer. "Them." He prompted. "Carbonell and Melantha Javed." Ron's eyes widened, an unidentifiable expression contorting his face. "Ring any bells?"

"But their case…" Ron stepped into the hall. "Their files…they went missing. How?"

Parker straightened his cloak smugly. "You're brilliant partner convinced Triaquin Ceemist to press charges against them for threatening his wife if he didn't side with them on Blake's case." Ron's mouth fell open in shock. "How much do you love me right now?"

"But how did you?...Why did you?...Blake's still missing…"

"And we'll find her." Parker put a hand on Ron's shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. "But right now we got'ta go. We've run out of time. If we don't go after them now, it'll be too late."

"But I…I don't…" Determination battled with denial on his face. Instinct to guard his heart, to protect it from any more pain, struggled against his overwhelming desire to go after the bastards who were responsible for tearing his world apart. As his heart and mind warred with each other his Auror instincts took over.

He looked down at the clothes he was wearing. It was a far cry from what he normally wore on a mission. He preferred to dress prepared for anything.

"No time for that now." Parker interrupted, picking up on what he was thinking. Using the hand still in Ron's shoulder he turned him and marched him toward the door. "What you're wearing is good enough. Let's go." He released Ron's shoulder with a little shove. "After you. Wait. Do you have your wand?"

"Er…" Ron patted his pockets. "It's in the…ah…"

Parker rolled his eyes. "Accio Ron's wand."

Seconds later the dark length of wood that was Ron's wand was flying down the stairs and into Parker's waiting hand. "Take it." He tossed the wand to Ron who caught it after a minor fumble, "And let's go."

"Where am I…?"

"Headquarters. I have Blume and Mathews rounding everyone up and Stone and Banning collecting supplies, just in case. If they followed my instructions, everything should be ready by the time we get there. So…" He motioned Ron to go with his hand.

"Parker, how can I…"

He held up a silencing hand. "Worry about it after we catch these sons of bitches. Now, let's _go_."

"Right." Ron's chin stiffened with familiar determination. He pushed everything but the current mission out of the way into the back corner of his mind. It would have to wait until later. He shook out his body and stretched his neck from side to side. "Let's do this." He spun on his heal and disappeared.

Parker sighed. It was a relief to see the familiar spark in Ron's eyes. It was the first glimpse he had seen of his partner in a long time.

"Captain," Gwen was at his side the moment he walked through the door to the Alpha briefing room. "Every things set. Every one's here and accounted for. They've all been filled in on the situation and are waiting for your orders."

"Good."Ron nodded. "But before we do that, could you fill me in on the current situation."

"Oh," Gwen rolled her eyes at herself. "Of course. Right. So, turns out the reason why mummy and daddy Javed wanted Blake was for her inheritance."

Ron's body tensed as his suspicion of Carbonell's and Melantha's motivation for filing custody against him for Blake was finally confirmed. It galled him to know end that they had accused him of wanting Blake for her inheritance when it was what they were after the entire time. "Really?" When he spoke his voice was deadly cold, completely devoid of emotion.

"Yeah," Gwen confirmed. "Turns out they've been selling off their family property for years. They planned on using Blake's inheritance to skip the country."

"And they're doing it tonight." Ron said knowingly.

Gwen nodded. "They wouldn't have waited so long, but they need the money. Carbonell was giving his wife a chance to hide the rest of her family heirlooms while he acquired some funds."

"How well did she hide them?"

Gwen smiled smugly. "We've confiscated half already. We'll go after the rest after we take care of them."

"Do we have any idea what the rest of their plans are?"

"They pooled the last of their funds to hire an illegal international portkey. They're meeting the porter at midnight in the field north of Gagglemen's Gulch."

"And the porter?"

"Two birds with one stone, sir."

"Excellent." He nodded. "Good work, Gwen." He patted her shoulder as he stepped past, greeting the rest of his team with an anxious smile. "Alright men, you know what to do. Let's keep this quick and painless. And let's try our best to bring everyone in, shall we? I'm tired of Greene ridding my arse all the time." There was a spattering of chuckles around him. "Let's move out."

The room erupted into a bevy of sound and movement as the Alphas split off into pairs, readying to take the portkeys that would transport them to their drop off zone. One by one the groups disappeared until it was just him and Parker standing in the room.

Parker put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you ready for this?"

Ron squared his body. "More then you know." He glanced over at his partner. "On three?" Parker nodded. "One. Two. Three." They reached out together to touch the one remaining portkey. Their fingers were instantly fused with the wood of the picture frame. There was the familiar jerk behind the navel and the disconcerting feeling that came from having your body whipped about as you were hurled through disjointed space.

When they came to the end of their journey both Ron and Parker were on their feet. As Parker set about collecting and deactivating the portkeys, Ron crept forward with Gwen to study the area. "There." She pointed to a massive boulder the stuck up from the earth a stone's throw away from the gulch. "That's where the exchange is taking place."

Ron pursed his lips as he surveyed the area. Satisfied that he understood the lay of the land and the effect the elements would have on his team, he began to pass along further instructions. He designated positions. Warned them of foreseeable blind spots they might encounter. He further reminded them to cast the appropriate charms so they wouldn't give themselves away. And most importantly, reminded them that they would be surrounding the target, so they had better make sure to watch out for each other. He didn't want to be responsible for bringing home any dead or injured teammates.

The assignments handed out, Ron settled down in his own vantage point, Parker at his side, to wait. There was no way he was going to let Melantha and Carbonell Javed escape him. He was determined. He was going to end this, once and for all.


	24. Try and Stop Me

Hello Everyone, it's me. But of course you knew that. You've undoubtedly been wondering where in the bloody hell I've been for the past two months. You're completely justified in asking that. I will share something with you. Have the absolute, worst possible, luck when it comes to electronics. I always seem to pick the wrong ones. I've had three computers completely die on me for no apparent reason. I've gone through two IPods, though the first time they gave me a faulty one. And now my Zune is on the fritz. It's just not good. So where all this is leading is to my latest computer failure. Two months ago the GPU (I believe that's what my brother told me it was called) on my NVidia Video processor, burned itself out, taking the motherboard with it. This is apparently something that has been happening to Nvidia cartridges all over the world. Roughly a month and a half after people their computer the cartridge burns itself out. HP knows this is happening but they're trying to cover it up because they can. So, seeing as I'm a newly graduated, and have no money I wasn't able to fix it right away. So I had no computer. I was lucky in that my parent's paid to get it fixed for me as my Christmas present. I had back for an hour. One hour, and I contracted a virus. And then, apparently my antivirus wasn't good enough so I couldn't get it off. Every attempt I made has made it worse, which means its back in the shop and it isn't done yet.

So, seeing that I had very little computer access, which basically means none, it's taken me a very long time to get this chapter typed up and corrected. I don't know if it's up to standard, I just need to get it out to you because I can't stand the guilt anymore. This is also why I have chosen not to respond individually to your reviews as a normally do. I thought you would appreciate receiving the next chapter more then receiving a personal review. It doesn't mean I appreciate your reviews any less, but with limited internet and all of that, I hope you can understand.

So, I'm going to shut up now. I just really wanted you all to know that I was not deliberately wasting time or trying to frustrate anyone, other than myself. I really did get this to you as quickly as I possibly could. Hopefully this chapter isn't riddled with too many mistakes. Looking forward to hearing from you all again, because I have really missed you, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four: Try and Stop Me

The moon waned high above them, a single silver crescent in the black sky. Under the weak light the stars shone intensely bright, but in the field where Ron and the Alphas waited it was mostly black. The shadows sucked up what little illumination there was until the only thing discernable was the faint outline of the large boulder.

Ron shifted uncomfortably on the cold, wet ground. He hadn't cast an impenetrable charm before hunkering down to wait and the moisture from the soil had soaked through both his outer robes and his clothes beneath.

Growing impatient Ron turned over his wrist to check the time, only to curse when he saw the bare skin where his watch should be.

"Fifteen to."

Ron glanced over at his second from the corner of his eye. "I would have thought they'd be here by now."

Parker smiled brashly at Ron, one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. "Anxious are we?"

Ron harrumphed, turning his eyes away. "Are we certain we have the right location?"

"Positive."

"They could have said Gaggelmen's Gulch to throw us off."

Parker's eyes rolled. "They didn't know we were listening."

"We don't know that."

"Ron," Parker said sternly, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax. It's not time yet."

"But what if we're wrong?"

Parker let his hand drop when he shrugged. "We found Amadeus, didn't we?" He glanced at Ron and saw the anxiety on his face. "Ron, if they do manage to get past us we'll track them down." He assured. "We always do. They won't evade us for long."

"I would rather this be done tonight."

Parker nodded. "Agreed. I have a few other things I need to take care of."

Ron's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "I wasn't aware we had any new assignments."

Parker forced himself not to smile at the word we. He could feel some of the tension he had been carrying with him ease from his body, allowing him to physically relax. _We_ was a good sign. It meant Ron hadn't entirely given up on them. _We_ meant that Ron, his best friend, was defiantly still inside him somewhere. _We_ meant Ron was on his way back.

Using the same teasing voice he always used when he was razing Ron, Parker nudged him. "Work doesn't stop just because you decide not to show up. Besides," he turned his body just enough to be facing his friend, "I never said I was working on anything assigned by the Ministry." Parker glanced at his watch before refocusing his attention on the empty field. He turned his wand in his hand, finding a more comfortable grip. "Any minute now." He said, just loud enough for Ron to hear.

Carefully shifting his body so as not to give away his location, Ron eased closer to his partner. "You've gone rogue?" The words were quieter then a blade of grass rubbing against another.

"You're one to talk." Parker snorted. "Who do you think I learned it from?"

"You'll fill me in when we get back to headquarters."

Parker nodded his agreement. "Now would you shut it?" He hissed. "I'm trying to work."

Ron rolled his eyes. But this time when he fell quiet he remained silent, all of his attention focused on their task.

The wind picked up then, churning the stocks and adding a gentle purr to the night sounds. Insects buzzed around the Aurors heads, obnoxious, but ignored. Everything was silent. Not a sound was out of place, not a blade of grass bent out of order. If Ron hadn't known where each member of his team was located he wouldn't have been able to spot them, so well hidden they were.

It was in this perceivably empty field that Carbonell and Melantha Javed appeared moments later. The woman clung painfully to her husband's arm, her already pale fingers turning bone white from the force of her grip. Carbonell reached for her hand with his free one, gripping it tightly in an attempt to comfort. The pair looked suspiciously around, crossing the short distance of open field to stand in the shadow of the boulder.

"You don't think we missed him," Melantha whispered urgently, "do you?"

Carbonell shook his head once, the movement sharp. "We have five minutes." He glanced at his watch. "More than enough time."

Melantha continued to look around anxiously. "I don't like this place." She looked up at Carbonell, her fingers tensing further. "I don't like this place at all. Something doesn't feel right."

"Quiet." He snapped harshly.

Melantha's voice trembled. "Why did we have to meet him here? Surely there must be someplace else we could…"

"I already told you," he cut her off, "he'll only do business with us out of the public eye. It doesn't get less public then this."

"How do you know we can trust him?"

Carbonell slowly turned his wife to face him, tilting her chin up until she was looking at him. "What choice do we have, love? This is it. This is our last option."

Melantha closed her eyes as she pushed herself tight against her husband. "Carbonell," She pressed her face into his chest, "Promise me we're going to make it."

Carbonell pressed a kiss to the crown of Melantha's head. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he had the chance there was another pop.

The Javeds were joined by a tall man. He was well built, muscles defined even under his heavy layer of robes. His most defining feature was the mop of bright yellow hair that covered his head. He was instantly recognizable. His name was Erik Wells. He worked in the Office of Magical Transportation.

Parker must have recognized him as well, for Ron felt him tense beside him. Ron cautiously placed a hand on his partner's shoulder. The look in his eyes warned him to keep calm.

"Do you have the gold?" Well's asked, breaking the momentary silence.

Carbonell dug into his pocket, pulling out a large sack. He gave it a slight toss so that the coins made a heavy clinking sound as they knocked together. "Do you have the portkey?"

Wells narrowed his eyes at Carbonell. "Gold first."

Carbonell stood there staring back. When he didn't move Melantha nudged him in the back. "Give it to him."

Carbonell ignored her. "How do I know you won't run as soon as you have the gold? I need some type of insurance the portkeys good."

"If you don't trust me I can just leave." The yellow haired man turned his back on the couple. "Good luck finding someone else to make you a portkey at this late hour."

"No wait." Melantha threw herself at the porter, dragging him back. "I trust you." She reached for the moneybag Carbonell still held. "Give it here." His fingers tightened around the neck. "Carbonell," she tugged firmly at the sack. "Let go." She tugged at the bag again. Panic made its way into her voice. "I refuse to spend the rest of my life in prison. Now let go." She managed to break her husband's hold on the bag, catching it awkwardly, unprepared for its surprising weight. Smoothing down her hair and robes, she turned back to the porter and offered the gold.

Wells snatched the bag from her fingers, pulling open the draw strings at the mouth to look inside.

"It's all there." She assured him. "Every coin."

"It better be." He tugged the drawstrings firmly closed. "Or the location of your portkey might just slip to the next Auror I meet."

"How about me?" Ron leapt lightning quick to his feet, wand drawn. "Will I do?"

"You bastard." Carbonell sneered at the porter, drawing his wand from his pocket. "You betrayed us." Melantha whipped out her wand beside him.

The pair turned in a tight circle, there eyes growing wide with desperation as more Aurors appeared in the field surrounding them.

Next to the couple Ron could see Well's mind working behind his eyes, trying to come up with some plausible excuse for his presences in the field. "I've so glad you've come." He finally stuttered. "These outlaws were trying to flee the country and I…"

"Am going to shut up right about now." Ron finished for him. He pulled his wand from Carbonell and turned it on the porter. "That's what I thought." He said when the man's mouth slowly closed. "I'm afraid you'll find the Ministry is not lenient on those guilty of trafficking illegal portkeys. Especially not when the trafficking comes from within."

"Carbonell," Melantha hissed, "What are we going to do?"

Without stopping to think, Carbonell turned his wand on his closest opponent. Instantly spells were fired from all sides. Carbonell pushed his wife out of harms way as he dove to the side, firing off more spells before hitting the ground and rolling.

Following her husbands lead, Melantha took up her wand and began firing spells back. She regained feet, ducking and spinning out of the way of jets of light, laughing manically as the magic whisked by her, a hair's breath away from her skin.

A curse escaped Ron's lips when several members of his team fell under stray magic. But there was no time to stop now and see if they were alright. Steel cold determination surged through his body. He strode boldly forward, quickly disarming the Porter, one eye steady on the Javeds. He was forced to duck when a stray spell flew past his head.

It was in that moment that Wells thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a heavy sack. It was bulky and angular. Ron knew instantly what it was.

Without thinking, he threw himself at the Porter. His shoulder collided with the man's stomach. Grunting painfully, Wells threw his arms out, desperate to regain his balance. The bag soared out of his flailing hands and landed at Melantha's feet.

The firing of magic seemed to halt as Ron landed with a grunt. Ron's proximity to their target seemed too close for his team.

Taking advantage of the second long cease fire, Carbonell turned his wand on Ron.

"Hold fire." Parker yelled. His order silenced the entire field.

Ron rolled off the Porter and onto his knees. In less time then it took to breath Carbonell had the tip of his wand at Ron's throat.

"Drop your wand." The threat in his voice left no room to doubt that Ron would be dead before his next breath if he did not comply.

Fighting against his natural instinct, he forced his fingers to loosen around the shaft of wood until it fell uselessly to the ground.

"Melantha," Carbonell ordered. "Pick up the bag."

Wand held out in front of her, eyes jumping from one tense face to the other, she crouched down and grasped blindly for the sack at her feet.

"Any of you so much as move," Carbonell proceeded to threaten, "And I kill Weasley." His lips turned into an ugly sneer. "You," He said, forcing the tip of his wand further into the soft flesh of Ron's neck. "You have been a thorn in my side for weeks. I should have killed you long before that ludicrous trial."

Ron's eyes slipped past Carbonell to Parker. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

"Open the bag." Carbonell snapped. "Open it. Open it!" He grew impatient when Melantha's fingers fumbled the fabric. "On three, dear. One…Two…" Carbonell looked to see where he reached just before the number three. With a roar that shocked both the Javeds, Ron lurched to his feet, catching the wand Parker through to him, instantly reaching to knock the portkey from their hands before they had a chance to activate it.

In her fright Melantha squeezed the bottom of the bag, forcing the tea kettle out of the top, connecting with Ron's fingers the same moment it brushed hers and Carbonell's.

There was an instant sensation of their fingers being fused to the cool metal and the familiar jerk of a hook from behind the naval.

Knowing that he had very little time, Ron tightened his hold on Parker's wand. As soon as they landed he needed to disarm and immobilize them both if he wanted any chance of making it home. He didn't like his current situation. One armed wizard against two in an unknown location with a foreign wand was not the type of odds he liked to take.

Carbonell had used his time in transit to plan as well. He must have dropped his wand when Ron collided with him when he lurched to his feet because the moment the portkey released them, he swung at Ron, his fist connecting painfully with his jaw. "Run Melantha!" He yelled, taking another swing at Ron. "Run!" He yelled, tackling Ron when he took aim with Parker's wand.

Carbonell's fist connected soundly with Ron's chest the same moment Melantha cried, "Expelliarmus!" The wand wrenched from his finger tips, disappearing into the dark night, landing unseen in the tall grass. With a cry of satisfaction Carbonell let loose one more punch, sending a searing pain through Ron's eye.

Carbonell," Melantha held out her hand. "Come. We have to go. They'll learn where we are any moment." Waiting just a minute to see if her husband would take her hand, she pleaded with her eyes before she let it drop, turned and disappeared into the near by forest.

Carbonell stared after her a moment before shoving Ron forcefully into the ground. "I should have killed you when I had the chance. The world would be better off with one less Weasley in it."

Giving Ron a final shove, he pushed to his feet. He drew back his foot and connected with Ron's chest, the resounding crack leaving no doubt a rib was broken. He spit at Ron before turning and following his wife into the woods.

Clutching at the pain in his side, Ron stumbled to his feet. He lurched in the direction he thought Parker's wand had gone. He couldn't even hope of going after the Javed's without it.

"Damn it!" He cursed, stumbling over a hidden obstacle, coming down hard on his knees, jarring his body and sending a stab of pain through his side. Refusing to give up, he crawled forward on his knees, hand grasping wildly in the brush, eyes narrowed in search of the smooth shaft of wood.

With a great whoosh and the explosion of sound that signaled air being forcefully displaced, Parker, Gwen and Felix appeared in the clearing. Winnston, Banning and Jones arrived seconds later.

"They went that way." Ron gasped, steering his team in the Javed's direction. "Hurry. Don't let them get away." He needn't have bothered with the last, his team was already on the move.

"Accio Wand." Parker's wand flew threw the air and into his waiting hand. He was shaking his head, mouth ticking with sarcastic disappointment. He tapped it gently against the palm of his hand. "And here I thought you'd take special care of my baby."

Ron growled as he clamored to his feet, still holding his side. "Would you hand me my wand?"

Parker took a step towards him. "You're hurt." Now that Ron was standing, there was enough light to see the skin inflamed and darkening around his eye.

Ron prodded at the swelling. "It's nothing." He dismissed it. "Hand me my wand." He held out his hand. "Parker, they're getting away."

"Let me heal you first."

"There isn't time." Ron snapped.

"You're no good to us with a broken rib." Parker persisted.

Growling with frustration Ron turned. He held up his arm, allowing Parker room enough to cast a rudimentary healing charm, then bind it until it could be properly healed. When he was finished Parker handed Ron his wand. "The eye can wait. You go ahead. I'll stay here to meet the next group."

Again the air was filled with a whoosh and the crack of air displacement and the rest of the Alpha's appeared.

Stone immediately detangled himself from the rest of the team. "The Porter was secured and sent to a holding cell, Captain."

Ron paused long enough to nod his approval before he took off at a dead run. "They went this way." Parker was at his side. "Let's move."

* * *

Ginny glanced up as Harry came through the door into the kitchen, Si resting comfortably on his hip. Her eyes didn't linger long before returning focus to Bryony who was hungrily feeding at her breast. "I thought you would have left by now."

Harry stopped in the act of setting Si in his chair to look over at his wife. "No one in the Auror department is ever really in until eight." He settled his son in his chair before moving to the cabinets to find him breakfast. "I thought I would stop at Ron's before I went in."

Harry poured a handful of dry cereal into a bowl while Ginny lifted Bryony to her shoulder, tapping her lightly on the back. "Are you going over there because you think talking to Ron first will help you get back on my good side?"

Harry broke the top off a banana and peeled down the yellow skin. He used a knife to cut it into smaller bites, letting them drop into the bowl on top of the cereal. He brought the dish to the table and set it in front of Si, then took the empty seat between him and Ginny. "What do you want me to say, Gin?" He kept his voice low and even. "I'm sorry that for even one moment I made you feel like you aren't the most important thing in the world to me." He watched as his wife shifted their daughter off her shoulder and to the other breast, turning her face away from him at the same time. "But I really think I'm right about this. And if you'll just let yourself forget for a moment that Ron's even involved, I'm sure you'll see that I'm right."

Ginny's head snapped around. "Oh, you're sure, are you? Are you going to start thinking for me now, too?"

"Don't do that, Gin." He said evenly. "Otherwise I'll be forced to point out that you were trying to do the same for me last night."

"I was not." She said indignantly.

Harry tilted his head forward. "You were tying to tell me to pick Ron over Hermione."

"Ron's _family._"

"I don't want to get into this again." He said sharply.

Skin flushing, Ginny turned away from him while he rubbed at his face, frustrated, with both hands.

"Ginny, please be reasonable." He pleaded, letting them drop. "Hermione is one of your best friends. She's godmother to Bryony. Do you honestly believe we misjudged her so wrongly?"

Ginny gave a sigh of her own. "Harry," she turned her head back around. "You do what you have to do." She stood up. "And I'll do what I have to."

Harry followed her to his feet. "Why is it so hard for you to believe we're all on the same side?"

"Because. If we were you and I wouldn't be arguing and Ron wouldn't be hurting like he is. She promised me, Harry. She promised me she would never hurt him again. She broke that promise. How many others has she? She destroyed him, Harry." Her voice cracked. "She destroyed him."

"Okay." Harry conceded. "Fine. Then let's stop arguing and fix him."

Ginny squared her shoulders. "And you think helping Hermione's the way to do that?"

"No. I think in order to fix him I need to know why he's broken. And I think the only person who can really answer that is Hermione."

"Then go to her." She said. "Do what you have to do." She gave him her back. "But leave me out of it."

"Gin, please…" He held his hand beseechingly towards her.

"You better hurry if you want to catch Ron."

"Honestly," he whispered as he turned back to Si. "I'm more worried about losing you." He sank into the seat next to his son, putting his hand on his head and trying to smile when Si looked at him.

Ginny turned sharply around. "What are you talking about?"

Harry lowered his eyes. "I can feel this coming between us. Neither of us are going to change our minds and…"

"You're an idiot."

"Yes." Harry nodded. "Probably."

"Harry," Ginny took the seat next to him, reached over, placed her hand on his cheek and directed his face towards her. "You do know that we're not always going to agree on everything, right?"

"This isn't just anything."

"Be that as it may, I love you Harry. No matter what. And I'm not going to be leaving you because you decided to go and speak with her when I didn't want you to. You daft fool." Her fingers gripped him a little tighter. "I'll be angry with you, I'll shout at you. But I'm not going to leave you. How you could even think I would?"

Head bowed, Harry picked up Si and set him on his lap, moving his breakfast bowl so he could still reach. "I've lost…so many." He tried, his arm tightening around his son. "The idea of …of losing anyone else…"

Ginny's face softened with understanding. She could see the answer there in his eyes. She should have seen it before. He wasn't merely being stubborn. He needed to believe Hermione was trying to pass him information because he was terrified to believe the alternative. He needed to believe because if he was wrong he didn't stand to lose only one best friend, but both.

She reached for his hand and pulled it into her lap. She wanted to tell him that he was right. That everything would turn out fine in the end. But she didn't believe it. And she couldn't encourage him, and let him get his hopes up only to have them come crashing down around him when she was proven right. She couldn't understand how someone as strong as her husband could be so insecure and vulnerable at the same time.

"You won't lose me, Harry." Her lip turned up encouragingly in the corner. "I waited too long for you to let you go now."

Harry looked up into her eyes and tried to smile.

"Do what you have to do, Harry." She squeezed his hand comfortingly. "I just ask you please leave me out of it."

Harry continued to stare at her a moment before nodding. "I should go."

She released his hand. "You'll have missed Ron."

Harry shrugged as he pressed a kiss to Si's head. "I'll see him at work." He stood up and set Si in his vacated seat. "Be good for your mother." Si nodded, shoving a hunk of banana in his mouth. "You too." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of Bryony's head, stroking her head tenderly. He glanced uncertainly at Ginny.

"We're fine." She assured him. "Go."

"I love you, Gin."

She nodded. "I know."

He glanced at his wrist watch.

"We'll talk later." She promised.

Harry stared at her for a moment longer before he left. He arrived in the Ministry atrium a few minutes later and immediately set off for Ron's office.

"Good morning, Harry." Fern greeted him brightly when he stopped in front of her desk.

"Good morning, Fern. Is Ron in?" He asked, taking a step towards his friend's office.

"No." Fern drew out the word into several syllables. "He and the team are out on assignment."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "I didn't know he was working any cases."

"Er…" She pulled a piece of paper towards her. "It says here they're brining in a couple charged with threatening a Ministry Official, buying an illegal portkey, and I'm assuming, since they're not back, evading arrest."

"Oh." Harry looked slightly surprised. "Well good. When he returns will you let him know I'm looking for him?"

"Absolutely."

"Thank you, Fern."

Harry pulled back the sleeve of his robe as he turned to walk away. It took a second for his eyes to focus on the watch face. He still had another hour before his first class of the day was scheduled to begin. He hesitated just a moment longer in indecision. He turned sharply and made his way to the other end of the Auror offices.

He had thought about it all night. And the more he thought about it the more he was convinced that Hermione knew something, something she had tried telling him. It was the only thing that fit. The only thing that made sense. Her cryptic words. Her insistence that he set things right. _Not_ get her out of trouble. Set _things_ right. As in more then one thing.

So, he conceded, perhaps Hermione _was_ guilty. Maybe she was guilty and relying on him to get her off. To do that he either needed to get the Javeds to drop the charges against her, which of course they never would, or prove her innocent, a task that felt almost as impossible as the first.

Either way, her out look was very bleak. And knowing Hermione like he did, he knew she would be aware of her odds. Which meant there had to be another way to save her. Something he just couldn't see. It was that or… No. Harry shook his head. There was no other option. Hermione could be saved. Which of course brought him back to his original problem. Getting the answers he needed form Hermione in order to help her without the Betas finding out what he suspected.

"Gabe." Harry called, spotting the Beta Auror in the hallway ahead. "Gabe, can you spare a moment."

The tall Auror turned to face Harry, eyes wary, quickly scanning his face. He held his hands up in front of him. "I just want you to know that I tried to stop her." He said before Harry had a chance to speak. "I told her it was a bad idea, but she wouldn't listen."

An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Harry's stomach. "What did Hermione do?"

"Not Hermione." Gabe's eyes narrowed. "Has no ones told you?"

"Told me what?" Harry took an uneasy step closer. "What's wrong with Hermione? Is she alright?"

"No." Gabe said uneasily. "Captain Oldham's charged her with kidnapping the Blythe baby." Harry's face went blank. "She was moved to Azkaban last night. I thought someone would have told you."

"No." Harry said evenly. "No one told me. It seems people are going thought a lot of effort to make sure I know nothing lately. Why should this be any different?"

Harry forced himself to take several calming breaths. Things were becoming abundantly clear, very quickly. "Where is your captain now?"

"In her office." Gabe responded. "She got here a few minutes ago."

Harry nodded curtly. "Thank you for your help."

"I'm just doing my job, Sir."

"Don't dismiss your actions as duty. You've being quiet decent. A quality, I'm sorry to say, you do not currently share with your captain. Now if you'll excuse me." He stepped around the Beta, jaw stiffening. "I need to have a word with Captain Oldham."

Ignoring the protest of Jillian's assistant, Harry threw open the door to her office and marched inside. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt and this is how you repay me?"

"Captain Potter," Jillian said, not bothering to look up. She finished dictating her notes with a flourish and put aside her quill before folding her hands on her desk. "What can I help you with this morning?"

"You asked me to give your team refreshers yesterday to distract me while you moved Hermione to Azkaban." Harry said with no preamble.

She stared at him a moment, her eyes assessing. "Yes." She leaned forward, lifting her hands to rest her chin on them. "That was rather brilliant, wasn't it? I'm surprised you caught on so quickly. No doubt Weasley wouldn't have."

Anger flared fire bright behind Harry's eyes. "What were you thinking? This kind of behavior is unheard of. We have rules here, Captain Oldham. Procedures. Regulations. You can't just do whatever you want."

"And why not?" Jillian rose slowly to her feet, bracing her hands on the desk. "You do it all the time. Turning blind eyes, asking favors, giving your friends undeserved step ups. If you can do what you want, why cant I?"

"I follow the laws set out by…"

"Yourself. You and your friends came in here, _uninvited_, and changed everything. Things worked fine here until you came along."

Harry took a threatening step forward. "If things here worked fine, how was Voldemort able to gain the power he did? How come innocent people were thrown into prison without trial?"

"Hermione Granger is not Sirius Black." Jillian said briskly, sensing where Harry's argument was founded. "Hermione Granger is guilty of kidnapping."

Harry leaned forward. "Prove it."

"Shall I go over the facts with you?"

Harry's lip turned up in a sneer. "There's no need. You have no eyewitnesses. No confession. No magical _proof_ she did anything. Your case will never hold in trial."

Jillian's face stretched, pulling one brow into a high arch over her eye. "We shall see."

"I want Hermione released into my custody." Harry demanded.

"No." The answer was immediate.

"I wasn't asking." Harry growled.

"And I'm not giving in." Jillian said slowly, leaning in towards him.

The two glared deep into the others eyes.

"Besides," Jillian leered, "I was under the impression your wife didn't want Granger back in her house. If I were to release her to you, where would you keep her? A private flat for two?" Harry's stomach heaved slightly with the accusation. "Is that perhaps the real reason your wife doesn't want her back in her home. After all, you, Weasley and Granger are _legendarily_ close."

"You're disgusting." Harry spat.

"You think I'm the first to question your relationship? Hardly. It's been rumored for years."

Harry lurched forward. "Hermione is my sister. Ron my brother."

Jillian shrugged. "Say what you will. It makes no difference to me."

Harry shook his head. The look on his face a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "Hermione was right about you." It held a note of accusation.

"Perhaps you should have listened to her when you had the chance." Jillian sank gracefully into her seat, taking up her quill. "I very much doubt you'll get anything coherent out of her now. And just so you know, if there was some kind of hidden message in that conversation you had with her, my team will figure it out."

"You better watch yourself, Oldham." Harry warned stiffly. "I don't like the way you run things here."

She leaned back, unaffected, in her seat. "And I don't rightly care. You can go now." She waved him dismissively towards the door. "I have work to do."

Harry stared at her a moment in icy silence, trying to decide weather it was worth staying and pressing the point or giving up on the woman all together.

Cursing Jillian Oldham under his breath, Harry turned and left.

A satisfied smile appeared on Jillian's lips as the door slammed into the frame. Chuckling softly she touched quill to parchment and resumed her dictating.

* * *

Harry stood outside the shop for several minutes. He should go home. Ginny would wonder where he was. But he couldn't make himself do it. Today had been an abysmal failure. It seemed no matter what avenue he had tried to take no one was willing to help him. Greene's hands were tied with the threat of another Ministry scandal. Shacklebolt was unreachable at the moment and no one else had enough power over Oldham to sway her. He was frustrated, disappointed and felt completely abandoned. He couldn't talk to his best mate because he was out an assignment. And he couldn't vent to his wife because she didn't want to hear it. He could try and track down Neville Longbottom or Dean Thomas or someone, but they weren't really aware of what was going. It would take more time to fill them in then it would to vent.

So here he was now, standing in front of the door of the one person who might, hopefully, be able to help him, and he wasn't quite sure how to go in and begin. With nothing left for it he pushed open the door to the shop.

"We're closed." Fred called when the familiar door chimes sounded. "Come back tomorrow."

"Are you sure you can't make an exception?"

"Harry." Fred sat up, immediately recognizing his brother-in-law's voice. He tossed his quill aside before turning on his stool to face Harry. "What can I do for you?" He held out his hand as Harry approached. "Ministry orders?"

"Not today." Harry said, releasing his hand. "I'm here for a different reason."

Fred stared at him a moment longer, eyes narrowed observantly. "You and Gin having troubles?"

Harry's first instinct was to deny it. To assure Fred that everything between him and Gin was fine. But there had been real concern in Ferd's voice so instead he sighed, leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and lowered his head. "I don't know. Not really."

"What's happened? Did you have a fight? Why didn't you go to Ron?"

"I suppose because he's out of the country and also because he's a part of the problem."

"How's that?"

Harry glanced up at him. "There's so much you don't know." He shrugged his shoulders. "And I don't even know where to begin to tell you."

"Well," Fred drew out the word. "You could start at the beginning. I've heard that works well."

"Yes." Harry agreed either not noticing or ignoring the sarcasm. "It does. Ron and Hermione are at odds again."

Fred closed his accounting book. "Ron mucked it up, did he?" He asked knowingly.

"No." Harry shook his head. "Hermione did. You knew about them?"

"Hmm?" Fred lifted his face. "Knew about them? Yeah, of course."

"How?"

"They weren't very good at keeping it hidden, were they? You say Hermione was the one who mucked it up?" Fred asked thoughtfully. "I was sure it would have been Ron."

Harry shook his head again. "I'm not sure what happened myself, but I think this time it was defiantly Hermione."

"And Ginny's mad at you because of it?" Fred asked, clearly not understanding.

"It's a long story."

Fred looked around them, drawing Harry's attention to the empty shop. "I have time."

"Really?" Harry asked, slightly surprised.

"Yeah sure." Fred shrugged. "Better then figuring the books. Besides," A shadow passed over his face. "I could use the distraction." For a moment Fred's eyes were blank, as if he was seeing something far away. He gave himself a slight shake to come out of it. "Why don't you come up stairs? I'll put on some tea."

"Tea?"

Fred shrugged. "Mum says no problem seems nearly as bad when thought over with a cup of tea."

Picking up his wand, Fred waved it at the door setting the locking charm. Next he swooshed at the stacks of coins sitting on the counter. They floated in the air and fell with melodic plinks in the drawer of the register. With another flick the drawer was locked.

"So," Fred nodded towards the steps. "What's Hermione done?"

Together the pair began the climb to the next floor where Fred's flat was located. "Well," Harry hesitated. "I suppose the big thing is she told Ron he was a bad father."

Fred stopped climbing to look back at Harry. "Hermione said that?" His voice echoed his disbelief.

Harry shrugged. "I wasn't there. But that's what Ginny says."

"And you don't believe her?"

"I don't know what to believe." Harry admitted. "I _want_ to believe Ginny, but that just doesn't sound like Hermione."

"And that's why you and Ginny are having troubles." Fred said understandingly.

"That's only part of it." Harry said while Fred opened the door and let him into the flat.

"Would you like to explain further?" Fred asked when Harry didn't continue. "I can't read minds you know."

The laugh that escaped Harry's lips rang with sorrow. "Gin said the same thing."

Fred smiled half heartedly. "What can I say? We were all raised by our mum. Sit down." He nodded toward the old sofa. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll conjure us up some tea."

Fred disappeared through the arch into the kitchen. Harry could hear him open cupboards and running water. "So," Fred called as he set the pot to boil. "Ginny told you that Hermione told Ron he was a bad father? What did Ron say?"

"I couldn't ask him." Harry leaned into the sofa, and relaxed a little as the cushion gave to his weight and molded around him. "Like I said, he's on assignment. Out of the country."

The tea kettle whistled shrilly in the other room.

"I have to say, Harry, I'm really surprised by that."

"By what? Ron goes on assignment out of the country all the time."

"Not that." Fred appeared in the arch, a tray hovering in front of him. "By Hermione. It doesn't seem like something she would do, all things considered." He set the tray in front of Harry. "How do you like your tea?"

"I've got it." Harry leaned forward, reaching for a cup and the tea pot. "What did you mean, _all things considered_?" He filled the cup with the amber liquid and added a splash of milk.

"Well," Fred moved forward in his seat. "Let's start with how crazy they are for each other. Ron's been sweet on Hermione since he was eleven years old. Poor sod. And Hermione's been the same for probably as long." He poured himself his own cup of tea now that Harry was done. "I warned Ron to be careful. I told him he needed to pay more attention to her."

"Are you blaming Ron?"

"No." Fred squeezed a biscuit from the pack. "Not exactly."

"Not exactly? Then what are you saying?"

Fred bit into the biscuit. "What I'm saying is, I know for a fact that Hermione is mad for Ron. We all know she's prone to lose her temper every now and again. But to attack Ron like that? When she knows how much he's already suffered? She must have been provoked in someway."

"That's what I tried to tell Ginny."

"The problem is," Fred continued as if Harry hadn't spoken. "Now that Hermione's mucked this up, Ron's not going to forgive her."

"No." Harry agreed. "He's not."

"Right." Fred nodded. "So, seeing as Ron and Hermione are quiet obviously done, and there's nothing we can do about it at the moment, let's concentrate on a relationship we can fix. I imagine this other part of the problem you mentioned is that you want to find a way to get Ron and Hermione back together and Ginny doesn't."

"No." Harry set down his cup. "Not really."

"Harry," Fred sighed. "We can keep going around in circles like this, or you can just tell me what it is you have to say."

"Alright." Harry moved forward on his seat until he was sitting on the very edge. He leaned forward so that his elbows were braced on his knees. "Here's the thing. I don't think Hermione said what she did to Ron to be cruel." He looked up into Fred's surprisingly concerned and focused eyes. "I think she was trying to pass us information. In fact, after today I'm sure of it."

For several minutes Fred said nothing. His eyes darted around as his mind ran over what Harry had said. "Secret messages?" He sounded skeptical.

"It's the only thing that makes any sense."

"So this is only a theory. You haven't asked Hermione?"

"I tried to do that today."

"You _tried_?"

Harry nodded.

"But you didn't succeed?"

Harry lowered his head shamefully, his face darkening to a vivid red. "I was blindsided. Hermione warned me and I didn't…" He let out a puff of frustrated air. "I was too late." He started over. "They've already moved her to Azkaban."

"They've charged her." Fred concluded.

"Yes." Harry confirmed.

"So she's guilty." Fred leaned back in his seat. "She did kidnap Blake."

"I don't know." Harry shrugged. "But it looks that way."

Fred's eyes narrowed, focusing through his teacup. He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching absently at his scalp while he thought. "Why would she do that?" He finally asked. "If what Ginny says is true, and Hermione did tell Ron he was a bad father, why would she have worked so hard to help him gain custody?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Harry asked, his excitement rising. "Because you're right. It doesn't make sense."

"But," Fred held up a finger. "I suppose it could explain why she's kidnapped Blake now. If she thinks he's a bad father…But I don't think that's it. Hermione loves Ron, I'm sure of that."

"I agree."

"Which is why," Fred picked up his cup, "You've come to the conclusion that she's trying to pass you hidden messages."

"It's one of the reasons." Harry qualified. "The rest comes down to something Ginny said the other day." Discarding his tea all together, Harry stood and began pacing. "I was late coming home from work last night. I found Ginny in Hermione's room putting away her things. She told me she had been to see Ron. He didn't show up for work and Parker sent her to check on him. When she got there Ron was packing Blake's things. According to Ginny, Hermione told Ron he didn't deserve to be a father because he didn't appreciate the family he already has. And that," he said turning to Fred, "Is when you're name came up."

"Mine?" Fred asked, surprised.

"Yes." Harry made a dismissing motion with his hand. "Apparently, Ron didn't know if you had a girlfriend. But that's not the point." Harry turned and continued pacing and so did not see the way Fred stiffened behind him. "It was at that point that I remembered Hermione had mentioned your name to me as well, though I couldn't remember what the context was. But still," he spun around. "I thought it couldn't be a coincidence that she specifically mentioned your name to _both_ me and Ron."

Fred stared at him blankly for a minute. "You think I helped Hermione kidnap Blake?" He asked, understanding the direction Harry was going.

Harry sighed, his shoulders sagging. He could hear it in Fred's voice. He didn't know anything.

"Yes." Harry confirmed. "I was hoping you knew something. I guess I was wrong… But I was so sure." His shoulders sagged further.

"So let me see if I have this straight." Fred took a sip from his tea. "You think Hermione is trying to pass you information because she mentioned my name twice?"

"She _specifically_ mentioned your name twice."

"And that's it?" He asked with mounting disbelief.

"That," Harry shrugged sheepishly. "And the fact that the Betas were listening in on her conversations and I think she knew that." Harry started pacing again. "I wish I had paid more attention the last time I spoke with her. She asked me to fix this, Fred, and I have to believe she meant all of it. I know I might be grasping at straws, but I know she mentioned you to me and I know she mentioned you to Ron, so I have to believe she thinks you know something."

"Harry, if I knew where Blake was, don't you think I would have gone and retrieved her myself?"

"Maybe she said something in passing." Harry persisted.

Fred shook his head. "The last time I really spoke to Hermione was Blake's naming ceremony."

"What did you talk about?"

Pain flashed through Fred's eyes. "She wanted me to stay away from her friend." His voice sounded a little rough.

Harry turned when Fred coughed, determined to get every detail but stopped when he saw the look on his face. His lips were turned down, his eyes empty. "Fred what is it?" He took a step towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Me?" Fred looked up, a smile that wasn't quite genuine on his lips. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

Fred shook his head. "It's nothing. We're talking about Blake and Hermione and…"

"We can take a couple minutes for you. Something's not right with you, Fred. What is it?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Fred lowered his eyes. "Alright." He folded his hands together as he took a deep breath. "Despite my best efforts, I've gone and fallen for a girl."

Harry froze, then burst into laughter with a snort. "I'm sorry." He held up a hand at Fred's disgruntled look. "It's just…I fail to see the tragedy in this."

"Forget it." Fred dropped his empty cup on the tray.

"No," Harry waved his hand at him. "I'm sorry." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "You just really had me worried there for a moment. You know, most people are happy when they fall in love, not depressed."

"I was happy." Fred barked. "She's amazing."

"So what's the matter?"

Fred's face dulled to a dark pink. "She stopped writing to me. She's blocked the floo." Fred looked bewildered. "I don't even know what I did wrong this time."

"You're being serious." Harry said with realization. "You've actually fallen in love."

Fred laughed mirthlessly. "I think I have."

"Why haven't you told anyone?"

"And have you all take the piss out of me? No thank you."

Harry had nothing to say to that. Fred was right. He would receive no end of grief from the brother's he had poked fun at for years over there married status. And he was probably thanking his stars now that he hadn't.

"So, who is she?"

"Beila."

Harry paused, surprised. "Hermione's friend?"

Fred nodded.

"How long has this been going on?"

Fred flushed. "Blake's naming ceremony."

"Does Hermione know?"

Fred shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so…" He stuttered to a stop. His head snapped up, his eyes seeking Harry's. "In fact, I know she does."

Harry and Fred shared a look. There minds were on the same path. "But no one else does?" There was an urgency to Harry's voice.

"No." Fred shook his head sharply. "Like I said. I knew I'd get the piss taken out of me if anyone found out."

"How long has it been since Beila stopped talking to you?"

"Almost two weeks." Fred sounded almost excited.

"Around the time Blake went missing." They said together.

Harry clapped a hand on Fred's shoulder. "Do you think George could spare you a few days?"

"I'd like to see him try and stop me."


	25. She's Damned Herself

Hello Everyone. It's me again. I'm still haveing computer issues, hence the two weeks it took to get this posted. Much better then last time though. That's something to be cheerful about, right?

I just wanted to say another thank you to everyone who wrote me. It really does mean a lot.

Anyway, I don't want to ramble on again like I did last time. I'll just let you get to it. I hope you all enjoy this. Let me know what you think. I'm a little worried, but then again I always am. Happy Reading, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty Five: She's Damned Herself

The pub was surprisingly dim, all the lamps turned low and the fire banked, so it took two scans of the room before Parker spotted the vibrant red hair he was looking for, sitting alone in a stall in the back corner.

Pulling his traveling cloak off his shoulders, he worked his way through the crowd, slipping onto the bench across from Ron.

"Is everything taken care of?" Ron asked looking over his mug of firewhiskey.

Parker nodded once. "Stone and Banning arrived at the Ministry early this morning. They filled the necessary documents with the right people." He arched a brow deliberately.

"Good. Any idea how long until we can extradite?"

Parker's face fell, his lips slipping into an unhappy grimace. "It could be a while." He said slowly.

Ron frowned. "Explain."

"Unfortunately," Parker sighed, "There's been some changes in the Ministry since we left."

"We've only been gone a few days. What kind of changes could they possibly have made?" Ron asked incredulously.

Parker rubbed wearily at his temples. "The scrambling kind." He lowered his hands. "You already know we're down an Official. Obviously Ceemist can't leave the safe house until we have all of this taken care."

Ron nodded. "Yes and?"

"His work load is being divided between the other Officials, so they're taking longer to go through their cases."

"Honestly, how long does it take to sign a few documents?"

"That's not the issue, Ron." There was a hint of anger to Parker's voice. "The issue is that it's going to take some time before the files even land on an Official's desk. The law office hired someone to replace Hermione," He paused to see if there would be some kind of reaction on Ron's part. He was slightly surprised to see that there was none. "So," he said slowly, "on top of training their new employee, who can't even come close to matching Hermione for efficiency, they're also having to review old cases because of what happened with Ceemist."

"Why? What reason could they have…"

"Almost every case of the past five years is being contested. If Ceemist could be bought or threatened, how many others have? Like I said," he bowed his head. "It could take a while."

"Fantastic." Ron slumped in his seat. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear." His hand smacked down on the table. "So what? Are we supposed to wait here, twiddling our thumbs, while they try and reorganize? Do they think we have time to waist playing nanny?"

"I don't think we're top priority."

"Of course not." Ron finished off the last of his drink. "Why would we be? It's not like we risk life and limb for the Ministry every other day." His mug came down on the table with a loud thud.

"Ron," Parker said in a low voice. "Calm down. We have them in custody."

"So?" He snarled. "What has that to do with anything?"

"It's over." Parker nodded. "Blake is safe."

"Blake isn't safe." Ron hissed. "Blake is gone. No one knows where she is." He pushed his mug away angrily. "And why do you all act like she's on holiday? Like's she's only gone for a little while and she's coming back? She's not. She's _gone_. She's gone, Parker. And she's not coming back. So I really wish you would all stop pretending that everything is going to be fine. It's not."

"You don't know that."

"And you do?" Ron laughed humorlessly. "Please, tell me what you know that I don't." He lifted his hand and caught the attention of a server. He pointed at his empty mug, than held up two fingers. The man nodded that he understood.

Parker leaned forward. "There's still a chance that we..." He murmured.

"How hard is it, do you think, to learn Russian?" Ron asked, ignoring him.

"Why?" Parker was surprised into asking.

Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "This is an interesting city. Maybe I'll stay here for a while." He nodded his thanks when the sever set two filled mugs on the table. "Explore a little."

"What are you talking about?" Parker's eyes narrowed on the redhead. "You hate Eastern Europe."

Ron shrugged again, dismissively. "Perhaps I haven't given it enough of a chance. Or maybe I'll go to America. I've never been there."

"And what would you do in America?"

"It's a big country. It would take me a long time to visit all fifty states. There are fifty, aren't there? Or is it fifty-two?...No." He shook his head. "Fifty. Fifty-two is a deck of cards."

"You're running away." It was an accusation.

"I'm not running away." He said firmly, holding Parker's gaze. "Besides, what reason do I have to go back? There's nothing left for me in England."

"You have _everything_ left. You have a baby girl and a woman who loves you."

Ron started shaking his head almost as soon as Parker started speaking. "No." He objected. "I don't. Blake is gone. I never had Hermione. You've proven you can do my job just as well as I can. Now that we've got the Javeds there's no reason for me to stay."

Parker stared at him, his mind numb with shock. "Where is this coming from?" He managed to stutter.

"I've been thinking about this for some time."

"No. You haven't."

"What? Can you read my mind now?"

"Ron,"

"Why are you so upset anyway?" the redhead threw up his hands. "With me out of the way you'll be first in line to replace me as Captain."

"I don't want to _be_ Captain." Parker snapped. "And you don't want to quit."

Ron shifted his eyes off of his mate and too the amber liquid he lazily swirled around in his glass.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ron turned his face, giving Parker his profile. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a strong pull.

Parker leaned a little closer, his eyes narrowing keenly. "There's something going on here. You were fine a few days ago."

"I wasn't _fine_." Ron spat out the word like it was vile tasting.

"You weren't talking about quitting either."

Ron set down his mug and hid his face in his massive hands. "Not quitting. Resigning."

"It's the same thing and you know it." Parker paused a moment, lowering his head, to compose himself. "This is about Hermione, isn't it?"

"This has nothing to do with her."

"Of course it does." Parker sat back. "I know you two are having…issues. You had to use my name to see her."

"So? What is that supposed to prove?"

"Whatever is going on between you two, it'll pass."

Ron looked away. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think I do."

"Do you know what irritates me about you?" Ron's head whipped around so he was looking Parker direct in the eyes. "You're just like all the other Ravenclaws. You think you're so smart." He scowled unattractively, finally at his limit. "You think you know everything. Has it ever occurred to you that for once you might be wrong? You can't get them all right, Parker. You're not perfect. No one is. No matter how much you want to believe they are."

"Ron," his voice was etched with unease, "No one's asked you to be perfect."

"It's not asked, it's demanded. You wait until you're Captain and see what it's like." Ron gulped down several mouthfuls of his firewhiskey. "Lives are on the line. You're accountable for everyone and everything. One thing goes wrong and it could mean the end. You're not allowed mistakes." He took another drink. "And I've made one too many."

Parker hesitated a moment, not sure what to say next. "Ron, whatever mistake you think you've made…"

"I don't _think_ I've made it." Ron cut him off. "I know I have. _I screwed up_." Ron accented each word, surprising Parker with the intensity. "It's _my_ fault we're here. I'm the one who mucked it all up. I'm the one who gave away our position. Don't you see? We had them surrounded. It would have been so easy to pick them off if I had just waited. Stuck to the plan. We've done this, how many times, and I make a fresher mistake? That's inexcusable."

"Ron," Parker paused, uncertain what to say. "You don't know what would have happened if you had done nothing. If you hadn't acted when you did they could have gotten away completely."

Ron was shaking his head. "You know as well as I do…"

"I don't know anything." Parker said over him. "Like you said. You can't get them all right."

Ron shook his head morosely from side to side. "What if something had happened? What if somebody died?"

"No one did."

"But they could have." He said firmly. "I deviated from protocol. It's my fault Damon and Winston are hurt. If I hadn't mucked it up they wouldn't be in the hospital now." He turned his face away again. "You would all be better off without me."

"Like hell we would." Parker fumed. "You're our Captain."

"Damn it, Parker." Ron slammed his mug on the table, sloshing liquid over the rim and across the wood. "Don't you get it? I only got this job because I'm Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry Potter!"

"No," Parker said sternly." You got this job because you're Ron Wealsey who _happens_ to be best friends with Harry Potter. You're Captain of the Alphas because you earned, not because of who you know. If you weren't good at what you do, you'd be dead by now. And so would half the squad. _You don't get promoted to __**Alpha Captain**__ on a favor_. Maybe Delta, or Gamma, but not Alpha. We're the best team the Ministry has, and it's because of you."

Ron's head shook slightly from side to side. "It's not…worth it anymore."

"Not worth it?" Parker's eyes blazed with sudden fury. "What's happened to you? This isn't the Ron Weasley I know. The Ron Weasley _I _know would never have insulted his team like that. Do you even know what we've done for you? We've been working double shifts. Taking time away from our families and our friends to help _you_ because we thought you would do the same for us. This team is what it is because of you. And you're trying to throw it all away like it's nothing. Why? Because you feel you've been wronged? Well let me tell you something, _Captain_ Weasley, life isn't fair. Bad things happen. Not because we deserve it or because we've done something wrong. They just do. And if you give up, call it quits because things get hard, you're not the man I thought you were."

"You don't know what I've been through."

"I think I know better then anyone what you've been through. In case you've failed to notice, I've been watching your arse since all this started. And I'll be damned before I'll let you throw it all away."

"This isn't your choice to make."

"No. It's yours. But I don't want to see you make the wrong one." He forced himself to take a calming breath. "I know things are hard on you right now, Ron. But whatever Hermione's said…"

"I don't want to talk about her." Ron snarled.

"And why not?"

"Because. She's a two-faced, lying bitch. That's why not."

Parker stiffened with surprise. "You can't mean that."

"Every word." Ron seethed.

"But… you love her. And I know she loves you."

Ron's body shook with the force of his temper. "That woman is incapable of love."

"I've seen the way she looks at you."

"And I'm the one she's rejected over and over and over again." Ron shook his head with disgust. "How can I be good enough to lead the Alphas when I'm too stupid to protect myself against her?"

"Is that what this is about?" Parker's eyes were wide with both disbelief and understanding. "You think Hermione betrayed you and…"

"Hermione did betray me."

"Ron," Parker leaned towards him across the table. "Don't do anything you'll regret."

"The only thing I regret is trusting her in the first place."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I?"

Parker narrowed his eyes, calculating. "So, when Hermione comes to me, sobbing, because you've broken her heart, you won't mind if I'm the shoulder she cries on?"

Parker waited for the familiar flash of jealousy, but it didn't come. Ron's face was a frozen mask, completely devoid of emotion.

"I'm not going to start this game again." He said icily. "If you want her, you can have her."

And Parker believed him. The truth was etched there in the cold gleam of his blue eyes. In the hard edge of his chin. Whatever Hermione had done or said, Ron hated her.

"Alright." He agreed with a nod. "No more games." He could see some of the tension ease from his friend's shoulders. "But Ron," He persisted. "Please don't quit. If you need some time off, go ahead. Take it. Take all the time you need. Just don't quit. Don't throw away your career."

"Parker I…"

He held up a hand to halt him. "Just think about it. _Really_ think about it. And while you're at it," he lowered his hand, "remember, this case wasn't assigned to the Alphas by the Ministry. We're all here because it's important to you. That has to mean something, doesn't it?" Ron opened his mouth to speak but Parker waved him off. "Just think about it." He insisted. "You don't have to make any decisions today."

* * *

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Who would have thought Fred Weasley, mad man on a broom, would be terrified of a two hour flight in an airplane. From the moment the plane left the runway Fred had been as still as a statue, fingers gripping the arm rest until the knuckles were bone white, body pressed back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut. Harry had tried to use a charm to relax him, but it hadn't worked. Not effectively at least.

"I don't know why we couldn't just take a portkey." Fred moaned for what felt like the hundredth time. The pressure in the cabin shifted as the plane began its decent. Fred's fingers curled even tighter.

"Because," Harry hissed through his teeth, "The Ministry won't think to track us this way."

"I don't like this." Fred moaned as his ears popped. "This isn't natural."

"Come now. Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

"Back in England."

The plane seemed to speed up as it drew closer to the ground. Fred braced himself, convinced the Muggle contraption was going to crash. He yelped with fear as the wheels touched ground, forcing Harry to stifle his laughter.

"See," Harry said, nudging him playfully as the plane began taxing to the gate. "That wasn't so bad."

Fred remained pressed against his seat, eyes shut tight, skin an unhealthy pallor. "I think I'm going to be sick." A woman across the aisle from them shifted away, her face scrunched with disgust.

"Just take a few slow breaths." Harry instructed. "In through your mouth. Out through your nose." He reached into the pocket in front of him and pulled out the sick bag. He shook it open and placed it in Fred's hand. "In case you need it."

Fred cracked open an eye. "If you tell anyone about this…"

"I wouldn't dare." Harry assured him. "I value my life far too much," he said jovially.

"Good." Fred took another breath.

The plane eased to a stop and the passengers who hadn't already disobeyed the flight crew unfastened their lap belts. The aisle filled with bodies and people collided as some tried to move towards the exit while others tried to retrieve their luggage from the overhead bins.

"Are you feeling better?" Harry asked as the aisle began to clear.

Fred nodded. "I don't like flying this way."

Harry chuckled. "I could tell." He unclasped his lap belt as the last of the passengers moved past their seats. "It's time to go."

Fred stuffed the sick bag back in the pouch before he unlatched himself. He hurried off the plane, no doubt terrified it would take off again with him still on it, leaving Harry to grab both of their luggage.

Fred was waiting for him on the other side of the bridge. Harry handed him his bag and nodded for him to follow. "Alright," He said as they drew closer to customs. "When they ask the reason for your visit, you tell them you're here on holiday. Do you have that?"

"I'm here on holiday." Fred repeated.

"And if they ask for how long, you answer three days."

"I'm here on holiday. Three days." Fred nodded. "Got it."

It took them twenty minutes to make there way through the queue; all the while Fred repeated Harry's instructions over and over to himself under his breath like a mantra.

"Relax Fred," Harry said when it was his turn. "Muggles do this all the time. You'll be fine."

Harry made his way through passport control without any hassle. He was at the window and through before Fred could take in what was happening. He on the other hand was nearly pulled away when he responded to the inspectors greeting with "I'm here on holiday. Three days." In one frazzled breath.

With a little bit of spell work on Harry's part Fred was through and Harry was towing him toward the exit. "Smooth Fred, very smooth."

"I warned you I wasn't any good at this."

"Yeah," Harry said as he led Fred to the nearest empty cab. "You did." He opened the door and waited for Fred to climb inside.

"?A donde quieren ir ustedes?" The driver asked as Harry closed the door.

"What's the address?"

"Er…" Fred closed his eyes as he quickly searched his memory. "Calle de Atocha numero 62."

"Esta bien." The squat man behind the wheel nodded once before pulling smoothly into traffic.

"So," Fred pushed his hair back out of his face, "Explain this to me again."

Harry turned to give him his full attention.

"If it's not safe to bring Blake back to England, why are we looking for her now? Shouldn't we wait until it is safe?"

"What if we were wrong and Blake isn't here?" Harry asked in return. "If we wait until it's safe to bring her home we'll have wasted time we could have used to search for her."

"I still don't understand why it's not safe."

"As far as I can figure, Hermione kidnapped Blake and placed her with Beila to protect her from the Javeds. As long as they have custody we can't protect her." He faced forward. "We have to be certain that Ron has custody before we bring her home. Or at least that they no loner do. Otherwise everything Hermione's sacrificed will have been for nothing."

Fred watched Harry intently from the corner of his eye. "It's hard, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry slumped wearily in the seat.

"Both wanting and not wanting to find Blake."

"Of course I want to find Blake." Harry stiffened. "What a stupid thing to say."

"I know that." Fred assured him. "But at the same time, if we do find Blake here that means Hermione's guilty. That means she's going to be sentenced to Azkaban."

Harry let out a slow breath. "I'll handle that when the time comes." He pushed his fingers through his hair. "There's nothing I can do for her right now. So I'm just going to focus on finding Blake, getting home and making sure Ron doesn't lose his mind."

"Are you certain he hasn't already lost it?"

Harry made a ticking sound with his lips. "I'm not certain of anything anymore."

The two men fell silent then. There was nothing more to be said. Both were anxious and tired and a little frazzled. It was no small thing to fly to Spain on a hunch with no assurance that the person they were looking for would be home or worse, wouldn't disappear when they came to the door. Of course, Harry thought as her glanced over at Fred, it was doubly worse for him.

Unlike Harry, who was only there to find their niece, Fred was there to confront the woman who had cut him out of her life so abruptly. Knocking on Beila's door like this, unannounced, had the potential to be very mortifying for Fred if she had stopped contacting him because she no longer wanted to see him and not because she was trying to hide his brother's kidnapped child. Of course, bearing that in mind, it was undoubtedly going to be an awkward reunion for Fred no matter what.

Attempting to relieve some of the tension in his neck, Harry rolled his head to the side and stopped, his attention caught by the world flying past his window. Madrid was so different then the cities he was used to. It was so vibrant and colorful. The buildings were painted with warm, vivid colours, faded from the sun into more muted tones. Even the sky was brighter then England's, with a blue as warm as a precious stone instead of the murky, overcast grey he was use to.

It felt almost wrong to be anything but happy when the air was so warm and the sun was so bright. It was little wonder that Hermione had fled here five years ago. It was now even easier to understand why she had stayed away for so long. Without even being a part of it he could imagine the life of the city could be intoxicating.

"Estamos aqui. Ocho euros, por favor."

Harry counted out the toll plus a little extra and passed it to the cabbie while Fred climbed out. The redhead stood on the sidewalk staring at the small house. Like the rest of the city it was alive with colours. Flowers filled every available space of the garden. Blossoms exploded in a riot of shades and hues along the walk. Vines hung from the window boxes in brilliant curtains.

"Are you ready for this?" Harry asked, stepping up beside his brother-in-law and handing him his bag.

Harry watched Fred out of the corner of his eye. He could see the panic begin take him over. "I don't know if this is a good idea." He took a step back just as the cab pulled away. "I think I'll just go home."

"Fred." Harry grabbed his arm, stopping him from retreating any farther. "You've come a long way to back out without speaking to her."

"I've _tried_ talking to her." He took another step. "If she wanted to talk to me she would have answered one of my owls."

Harry pushed him towards the house. "There's only one way to find out."

"I…" He stared longingly toward the door, his face riot with indecision.

"_I _think you'll regret it if you don't try at least one more time. Come on Fred," he nudged him. "What more do you have to lose."

Fred's lips turned down in a frown. "It's so easy for you, Harry." He turned his head towards his brother-in-law. "You know Ginny loves you."

"It's not easy." Harry turned fully toward him. "Gin and I have problems."

"But you know she loves you." Fred insisted.

"I didn't always know that."

"Please." Fred snorted. "She's loved you forever."

"A childhood crush. Besides, by the time I realized how I felt about her she moved on. She gave up on me, remember? My sixth year? She was dating Dean Thomas. Not to mention the added turmoil of her being Ron's little sister. If we had gotten together and things went badly…" He didn't have to finish. They both knew what would have happened if things had gone sour. "I was terrified." He admitted. "But look at what I would have lost if I hadn't taken a chance. I wouldn't have Si or Bryony. I can't imagine my life without them, or Ginny."

"So, what you're saying is…"

"You really like this girl. I can tell. But if you don't go up there and knock on that door," he pointed towards the quaint house, "you'll never know how she feels about you. You'll lose her, and who knows what else."

Fred was quiet for a moment before his lips turned up in a familiar half smile. "Right now you sound like my dad when he gets up the courage to have a heart to heart with one of us."

Harry's face broke into a genuine smile. "I couldn't think of a better man to be compared to."

"You know, Harry," Fred tossed his bag over his shoulder as he walked past and up the path to the front door. "You turned into a bit of a pansy after the war." He looked back over his other shoulder. "Or perhaps it's just my sister's influence."

Harry shook his head with laughter. "Better men than you have accused me of worse."

Fred turned back to the door and not giving himself a chance to loose his nerve, rapped the knocker several times before letting it fall into place.

"Estoy viniendo." A voice called brightly from the other side of the door.

Metal grated moments later as the bolt shifted from its latch. There was a click and the door opened. "Puedo ayudarle…" She stuttered to a stop. "Fred?" Beila's face lit up. She stepped towards him, her eyes quickly taking him all in. She took another small step, eyes fixed on his face. She lifted her hand, reaching toward him, but stopped just before the tips of her fingers touched his face. She curled them away from him into a fist. She lowered her hand. "Why are you here?" She glanced over his shoulder to where Harry was standing just behind him. "You should not be here." She hissed. "Go home."

When Fred didn't respond Harry maneuvered around him. He held out his hand. "It's so nice to see you again, Beila. How are you?"

Beila took his hand. Eyes wide with panic, she rose onto her toes trying to look around the two men. "What is this about?" She whispered, leaning in. Her eyes drifted to Fred. "Where is Hermione? Did she not come?"

"No one told you?" Harry asked, releasing her hand.

"Told me what?" She pulled her eyes away from Fred. "What has happened to Mio?"

Harry took a step towards her. "Why don't we go inside?" He looked back over his shoulder, scanning the street behind them. "I'll explain everything. Inside."

Beila's hand tightened on the door. He could see her throat working to swallow. "I do not think this is a good idea." She pulled the door closer to the frame.

"Beila," Harry put his hand out to stop her. "Hermione's in trouble. Please let us in."

She shook her head. "I can not."

"Beila,"

She stared at Fred pleadingly. He blinked twice and looked away. She lowered her face. "She said let no one in the house." Her voice rasped.

"I'm sorry, Beila," Harry took her by the shoulders, "but I don't care." He forcefully but gently moved her aside so that he and Fred could enter the house. He used his foot to kick the door shut once they were through. "Now, where is she?" His voice rose to be heard over the woman's desperate protests. She ignored his question; too busy yelling at him incomprehensibly. Growling with frustration he released her and turned away. Beila's voice grew louder as he began searching the house. She followed him from room to room, begging or threatening him, he didn't know which, pulling on his arm in an attempt to bring him back to the door.

Harry jerked around at the bottom of the stairs. "Is she here?" He demanded again, beginning to lose his patience.

Beila paused, her face riddled with guilt.

"She is." Harry pulled his arm free to take hers. "Take me to her."

She shook her head desperately. "Mio said…"

"Go." Fred pried Harry's fingers off her arm. "If she's here, find her."

"Fred…" Beila turned to look up at him.

"Is this why you stopped writing me?" He asked as Harry raced up the stairs. "You were hiding her all along."

Harry stopped at the top of the stairs, right beside the first closed door on the landing. He could hear a whimper from behind the panel.

"Yes." He heard Beila admit brokenly as he pushed the door open.

There was a moments pause before, "How could you do that?"

Harry blocked out the conversation taking place behind him. All of his attention was focused on the child standing in a cot on the other side of the room. Her face was red and damp from crying. He took a step towards her. With a whimper, Blake used the back of her hand to wipe at her eyes. He stared at her, frozen, a moment longer, but when she spotted him standing across the room, and reached out for him, he was at her side in a moment, scooping her up in her arms.

"Blake," He tucked her close to his chest, rocking back and forth. He closed his eyes as he ran a soothing hand over her back. She tucked her face into his shoulder, continuing to whimper, rubbing her eyes against the soft fabric of his shirt. He swayed back and forth as almost painful relief washed over him. She was here. She was safe. All the terrible things he had imagined happening to her melted away. He could fix things now. Ron. Hermione. All of it. It would be hard, no doubt, but he could do it.

He leaned her slightly away from his body so he could see her face. He pushed her hair back out of her eyes, noticing the added length and the tips that now twisted into curls. "Your daddy is going to be so happy to see you." He kissed her brow affectionately.

"No." Harry turned, surprised to find Beila standing in the doorway, Fred just behind her. "He can not. She must be _here_."

"I don't think you have a say in this." Fred said bitterly, pushing past her to enter the room. "Hello princess." He held his hands out as he walked towards him, ready to greet her properly.

"I had no choice." Beila pleaded behind him. She followed Fred with her eyes as he took Blake from Harry's arms and held her at eye level. "Mio made me promise. Fred, please." Her voice cracked on the plea. She stepped towards him, hand extended. "I knew I would tell you. And I knew I could not."

Fred released Blake from his warm hug and set her securely on his hip. He turned back to Beila. "You should have told me. You should have trusted me with the truth."

"I do trust you." She reached for him. He stepped back. "Fred," She reached for him again, refusing to let go of his hand when he tugged. "Mio told me it would only be a few days." She tried to explain. "I had to keep the child safe. So she could go back to her father." She shook her head sadly. "I never thought it would be so…long." She cringed when Fred pulled his hand free.

Fred started at her blankly. He didn't know what to think any more. His thoughts were tumbling around in his head confusing him even more. He had known coming here that there was every chance that Beila was the one keeping Blake. But now that he knew it, he couldn't help but feel outraged. Both for his brother and for himself. Ron had been tormented for two weeks with the ill fate he imagined for his daughter, and here she was, safe and sound, like it was completely normal for her to be there.

He had almost convinced himself to turn and walk away, to never come back. Even if he could overlook the fact that she had played a part in his brother's torment, he didn't know if he could overlook the fact that she had kept it all from him. He had thought they were closer then that. But before he could turn and leaver her, he caught a glimpse of her eyes before they lowered to the floor. They were wet and shiny with tears. He felt his heart tighten in his chest.

"I did not know what to do." Her voice cracked. "I promised Mio." She was silent for a moment. "I promised." She hazard a look at his blank face, but turned away quickly at the harsh lines. "I missed you so much." She whispered. "I would have come to you. Soon. I would have begged you." She looked up. "Help me. She cries. She never stops. I do not know what to do."

"She misses her dad." Harry said, taking Blake back. He began pacing, adding a gentle rock top his step in an attempt to soothe the whimpering child. "She cries for everyone but him."

Beila hung her head. "Mio did not tell me that."

The group fell into silence. Harry tried murmuring to the child, but it helped little. Fred stared at Beila intently, his eyes narrowed in what Harry recognized as his thinking face. For a moment his features grew harder before they softened slightly.

He took a step towards Beila. He raised his hand, finger extended, and touched her just beneath the eye. She flinched at the contact. Fred held still for a moment then gently traced the dark circle. "You look like you haven't slept in days." Tenderness returned to his voice.

"I do not sleep." She lifted her face, seeking out Fred's eyes. "She does not sleep." She said desperately.

Her eyes drifted close as Fred continued to trace the stress lines in her face. They began to melt away under his gentle touch. "What if," he traced the back of his finger down her cheek, "I offered to stay and help you look after her?"

Beila's eyes sprung open. The joy that lit up her face at his words erased the tired pallor that clung to her cheeks. It was gone almost as soon as it came, replaced by disappointment. "You cannot." She carefully pulled his hand away, clinging to it a moment before she let it drop.

Fred's chin stiffened as concern melted away, replaced by humiliated anger. "If you didn't want to speak to me anymore, all you had to do was say so."

"No!" Her face stretched with horror. "Fred," She reached for him, taking his face determinedly between her hands when he tried to look away. She forced his chin up until he was looking at her. "It is too dangerous." She let the fingers of her right hand slip into his hair. "I have done this. Me. You will _not _be in trouble, too." Her hand retraced its path to rest on his cheek.

Fred placed both of his hands over hers, holding them against his skin. "Hermione's been charged with kidnapping." Beila's eyes grew wide with shock. "Only Harry and I know you're involved." He glanced at Harry over her shoulder. "And we're not going to tell anyone." It was a warning, but Harry was already nodding with agreement. He returned his focus to the woman standing in front of him. "Blake has to stay here until things are set right at home. You can't do this on your own anymore…so I'm going to stay here with you." He tried to sound confident and ruined the affect with, "Unless you don't want me to."

She clutched him tighter. "I want you."

A warm, contented smile kicked up the corners of Fred's mouth. "Then I'll stay." He pulled her hands from his face and rested them on his chest, still holding tight to her fingers.

Beila stared at their joined hands. "Hermione said," she began tentatively; "you do not stay with girls."

Fred nodded understandingly. "Hermione's pretty smart…but she doesn't know everything." He released one of her hands to cup her cheek. He tilted her face up so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere this time."

"No?"

"No." It was a promise.

Feeling more then a little uncomfortable at being witness to their reunion, Harry turned away. He had never seen Fred look at anyone that way before. And, if he were being honest, he never would have believed Fred was capable of such emotion. Or such sappiness. If it wasn't such a tender moment he'd take the piss out of him for being a nancy.

"Look," Harry turned back to the couple. "I think I'll take Blake here for a walk. Give you two some time alone."

Beila finally looked away from Fred. Concern was back in her eyes. "Is it safe?"

Harry shifted Blake so that she was snuggled higher against his chest, her face pressed into his neck once again. "No one knows we're here."

"No one followed you?"

"No. We can't be traced either. We came the Muggle way."

Beila visibly relaxed. "You think the same as Mio."

"That's how you got out of the country without anyone taking notice?"

She nodded. "Mio said they would not look for us the Muggle way."

"Hmm," Harry grunted. "Well, once this is all over I'll make sure to change that. I hate to think how many cases are still open because the Ministry was too arrogant to look at Muggle transportation as a way to escape." He shifted his weight to the other foot. "I think she's grown."

Beila crossed to them. She ran her fingers through the soft strands of Blake's hair. "She has not changed so much."

"You've had her for two weeks." Harry pointed out. "Ron hasn't seen her in nearly a month. He'll notice every change."

Fred joined them near the cot. He slipped his arm around Beila's waist and pulled her in next to him. "Then you better find a way to bring her home. Before she changes anymore."

"How long will you stay?" Beila asked.

"I'm set to return Sunday."

"Why so long?"

"It would be more suspicious if I only flew to Spain for one day." He explained. "At least now it looks like I was here on business. But you, you look like you need a few days off. Is there a bag I can use to carry some of her things?"

"No." She snatched the child out of Harry's arms, setting her to crying again. "She will stay here."

"You can trust me." Harry assured her.

"Yes I know." She rolled her eyes. "But she will stay here. It is not safe to leave the house. You know this." She shook her head. "Mio said you were smart. No." She said again. "You will stay here. Blake does not leave."

"Alright." Harry conceded, holding up his hands in surrender. He could tell Beila was not going to let Blake leave the house without a fight and he didn't have the energy, "We'll stay here."

"Mio had me promise." She said sympathetically.

"I understand." Harry assured her. "Hermione puts a lot of store in promises."

"SÍ." She cradled Blake close. "Mio promised her Ron, I promised her."

Both Fred's and Harry's eyes narrowed. "What did Hermione promise Ron?" The redhead asked for them both.

"She would not let the…" She closed her eyes as she tried to remember the right words, "the…Death Eaters? She would not let the Death Eaters touch his Blake. That is why she is here. Mio did not think she would lose. But she made me promise. If she lost, I would bring Blake here. Mio promised she would come when it was safe. She could not let them hurt her Ron's bebita."

"You were defiantly right, Harry." Fred turned to him. "About everything."

"Yeah, I guess."

"She really does think of everything."

"Not everything." Harry disagreed. "As far as I can see she hasn't thought of a way out of this one." He placed a hand on Blake's back. "She might have saved Blake, but she's damned herself."

* * *

"Is it really necessary to keep her in one of the high security cells? She's not a Death Eater. She hasn't killed anyone."

"As far as you know?" Jillian Oldham stopped to look at the Azkaban guard. "Do you know what she's done with that child? Do you _know _she hasn't harmed her? My team has been scouring the country looking for her, and we've found nothing. You know the statistics, Peel. Chances are when we do find her, it won't be alive."

"Oh please." He rolled his eyes. "Hermione Granger isn't capable of hurting anyone."

Jillian sneered at him with disgust. "Don't tell me you've been taking in by the _Golden Trio._" She ran a finger along the spine of the chameleon Patronus that sat on her shoulder and curled around her neck. "They're just as capable of causing pain as everyone else. I'd go so far as to say they're more capable. Especially that one." She nodded her head down the hall. "I'm sure she's picked up a few extra tricks from those books she reads."

"She's not dangerous." Thomas Peel crouched down by the silver Great Dane that hovered close to his knees. He whispered instructions in the dog's ear before sending him off. He watched him gallop down the hall then slip easily through the door to one of the cells. He stood from the crouch. "She doesn't belong here. You know it as well as I do."

"I know nothing of the sort." She dismissed flippantly.

"Come on." He said sharply. "She's not like the others. She's polite. She's orderly. She doesn't beg us for her freedom. She doesn't…offer…us…_anything…_for an easier time. I don't think she's guilty of anything more then somehow earning your displeasure."

Jillian tossed her hair to show how little she thought of Thomas's assessment. "Well fortunately it's not your job to decide. It's your job to keep her here, under Ministry custody. Now, take me to her. I have other things to do today."

Sighing heavily, Thomas turned and continued down the hall. He couldn't understand Captain Oldham and her strange behavior toward Hermione Granger. There was nothing remotely dangerous about her. She didn't need a full escort when she was being transported from the Ministry anymore then she required constant Dementor supervision now. There was no risk of her attacking any guards or attempting to escape. She wasn't dangerous in anyway. Whatever reason Jillian Oldham had for placing Demntors outside Hermione's cell it wasn't to protect others from her. To him it almost seemed Captain Oldham had placed them there to destroy her. Well, if destruction was Captain Oldham's goal she was definitely succeeding.

Thomas came to a stop at Hermione's holding cell. He looked in through the small, barred window. If he hadn't sent his Patronus ahead, he would have had trouble spotting her. She was on the floor, curled into a tight ball in the right back corner. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped painfully around them. Her head was bowed forward, brow resting on her knees, face hidden by the brown mass that had once been her meticulously clean hair. It stuck out from her head in gnarled clumps of knotted curls. She rocked the slightest bit forward and backward, muttering something to herself under her breath, too quiet for him to understand.

Jillian leaned forward so she could look in through the small window. She made a sound of disgust. "You've gone soft."

Thomas turned back to her, his own sneer firmly in place. "You're going to need her coherent if you expect her to answer any of your questions. From my experience, I can assure you, prisoners don't articulate well when under the constant presence of Dementors."

"Yes. I'm sure your concern is all for my benefit. You can go now." She waved him away. "And take your Patronus with you. I'm sure mine," she stroked a finger along the lizard's spine, "will be more then sufficient for the both of us."

Thomas turned back to the cell. It was clear from his expression that he was reluctant to leave Hermione alone with the Beta Captain.

Jillian nudged him aside impatiently. "I said you can go."

He shook his head at her. "Make sure you lock the door when you leave."

Jillian looked over at him, one eyebrow arched high. "I thought you said she wasn't a flight risk."

He frowned at her. "Just lock the door." He called his Patronus and it appeared through the door and galloped to his side.

Hermione bit back a cry as the Great Dane lifted its head then bolted from her. She wanted to call out to the guard, beg him to come back. But she didn't. She bit her lip and hid her face further in her legs. It was stupid of her to have let the Patronus protect her like that. It only made it harder when the Dementors returned. But it was impossible not to seek that sanctuary when it presented itself.

Hermione didn't look up when the lock turned. She ignored the door as it groaned and clanked as it opened. The hinges screamed their protest as the door swung closed.

"Good morning, Ms Granger." Hermione shuttered at the sound of the voice. "How are we today?"

Ignoring the Beta Captain, Hermione turned her head on her knee away from the voice and towards the wall.

"Not very friendly, are we?" Jillian conjured a chair and sat lightly. The chameleon unwound itself from its casters neck and crawled down her chest into her lap, where it settled and turned its eyes on Hermione, seemingly watching her.

Jillian smiled smugly. She knew from where she sat that her Patronus would protect Hermione from the Dementors affect to the point where she could answer questions, but not enough to offer her real relief.

When Hermione began to rock once again, Jillian leaned forward in her seat, taking care not to disturb her Patronus. "Are we ready to talk?" She asked in a nauseatingly sweet voice.

Hermione slowly lifted her head. She turned her face to look at Jillian. "Did you really think," she asked in a dry, scratchy voice, "that a few days in here would yield the results you want?"

The smile slid from Jillian's lips. "You're more stubborn then I gave you credit for."

"I'm stronger then you think I am." Hermione lifted her head higher. "Do you really think I would have survived all these years if I wasn't?"

Jillian lifted the chameleon back on her shoulder. "You're not as strong as you think you are. You're starting to fall apart." There was a hint of pleasure in her voice. "You'll give me exactly what I want in the end."

Hermione turned her face away.

"Do you know what I don't understand about you?" Jillian asked as she got to her feet and began a slow walk from one end of the cell to the other. "It's something I've never understood about all of you Gryffindors. It's the way you all ban together, even if it means your own downfall. Let's take _you _for an example." She stopped pacing to face Hermione. "You've done all this. Sacrificed everything you have, everything you've worked for, for a man who doesn't even love you." Hermione cringed, her arms tightening spastically around her knees. "Ronald Weasley _doesn't_ love you. He doesn't care about you. He hasn't once tried to come to your aid." She took a step closer. "And Harry, he gave up on you as soon as he learned you were charged. But then again, did you really expect him to pick you over Ron? Hasn't he always picked Ron over you?"

She was standing over Hermione now, staring down at her with a mean glint in her eyes and a satisfied smile on her face. "You're a lost cause, Granger. Everyone knows it. The only one still fighting is you. You're all alone in the world. No one cares if you ever get out of here. So why make things harder on yourself?" She crouched down so she was on level with Hermione. She reached out, and with one strong hand, gripped Hermione's chin and lifted, forcing her to meet her eyes. "Tell me where the child is and I'll move you to another cell. One free of Dementors. Wouldn't you like that?"

Hermione yanked her chin free, her head nearly colliding with the wall at her back. "No you won't," she said evenly. "No matter if I tell you or not, you intend to leave me right here."

"You listen here," Jillian grasped her arm painfully and gave her a shake. "This has gone on long enough. I won't let that child suffer because of your stubbornness. Her life is at stake. You tell me where she is…"

"Or what?" Hermione tried to jerk her arm free. "You'll make my life miserable? How could you make it any more unbearable then it is?" Tears shimmered in her eyes. "Go ahead and try."

"You think this is the worse you're life can get?" Jillian straightened to her full height. "I can double the Dementor guard. Triple it. Do you know what that'll do to you? Of course you do." Jillian crooned. "You can feel it happening already. You're getting lost inside your own head. It's becoming harder to fight. Harder to find your way back." Jillian leaned close so that her mouth was right next to Hermione's ear. "Eventually it will be impossible." She whispered. "You'll be lost forever."

Hermione leaned away, her eyes closed. "He'll come for me." She whispered. "He'll save me."

"_He_ doesn't give a shite about you."

Hermione shook her head, the sharp tiny movements almost imperceptible. "He'll come for me." She mouthed. "He'll save me."

"Well." Jillian took a step back. "It seems I've wasted both of our time coming out here today." She slowly turned and walked to the door, stretching out the time, gradually tearing away the comfort of her Patronus. "I'll let you get back to your thoughts."

The cell door screamed open and slammed shut. The lock clinked loudly as it was forced back into place. Hermione instinctively curled herself into a tighter ball. She knew the instant Oldham was out of the corridor. She could feel the Dementors swarm the hallway, taking up their posts outside her door.

Hermione bit down hard as the familiar ice plunged into her body. She fought the despair. She struggled to keep her mind light, filled with only happy thoughts. To make an internal Patronus that would protect her.

She could feel it slipping away. Her happy memories were too few or tainted with the despair that came after. "He'll save me." She moaned, rocking harder then before. "He'll come for me." Her voice cracked. It was getting harder to believe it. "He'll save me." Her hands reached up to grip her hair. "He'll come for me." But she didn't believe it. Not really. No one was coming for her. Not Ron. Not Harry. No one was trying to save her. And why would they? Ginny despised her. Harry always chose Ron. Ron…well Ron didn't love her anymore did he. _To think I actually thought myself in love with you._ That's what he'd said. He didn't love her. He didn't.

Tears she didn't know she had left welled in her eyes and escaped down her cheeks. "Ron." She chocked his name. "Ron, please…"

* * *

I just wanted to send a special kudos to all those who guessed early that Blake was with Beila. I don't know how many of you guessed right but it made me smile when I read the reviews of people who guessed and let me know. It made me feel like I was at least doing something right. I wonder if anyone can guess what's going to happen next.


	26. Coming Home

Hello everyone, I hope you're all doing well. I'm sure you're all expecting an explanation as to why this chapter is so late in coming. I think a good number of you have an idea because I've already told you a little of what's been happening. If you want a full explanation as to what's been going on I put it on my profile, right there on the top.

I also wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who reviewed. You're all amazing. I absolutely love hearing from you. I also wanted to say to the people who didn't sign their reviews that I would love to answer back, but it's hard to go and try and find people, especially right now. So if you want a response back, which I love giving by the way, it would make my life so much easier if you could sign it.

Okay that's all. I'll shut up and let you get on to reading. I hope you all enjoy this chapter,

Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six: Coming Home

"You must sign…"

Ron held up a hand to stop the Croatian Auror before he could explain further. "It's alright, Mr Celan. I know what I'm doing. This isn't the first time I've filed one of these."

"Of course." The man bowed his head politely. He handed Ron the packet of parchment and slid the inkwell and quill across the table toward him.

Ron bent over the forms and quickly scratched his name in the appropriate places. When he was done he rolled them up and handed them back to the Auror.

Pavao Celan nodded again when the forms to extradite were in his hands. "I will go and process these now. I am sure you would like to be home as soon as possible. If I might, we did not expect you to be here for so long."

"Yes well," Ron stretched his lips into a grim smile. "I wasn't expecting to be here this long either."

The man nodded with understanding. "Yes. It seems your Ministry is not better then ours at getting paper work done in timely manner. As long as it takes them to file an order of extradite you might think they thought we had nothing better to do with our time."

Ron couldn't help but smile at the man. It was nice, in an odd way, to see his own frustration duplicated on the face of his Croatian counterpart.

"I'll see if I can't rush these." Pavao said, holding up the roll of parchments in his hand.

"Thank you. I would really appreciate that."

The Auror turned then and made his way to the door, squeezing around Parker who stood, partially blocking the exit, leaning against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest. He tilted his head to the side curiously. "Would you?" He asked when the Croatian was out of hearing.

"Would I what?" Ron asked slumping into a chair, exhausted.

"Appreciate him rushing the forms? I was under the impression you still weren't keen with the idea of going home."

"I'm not." Ron sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his thumbs.

Parker waited silently for him to explain.

"I don't expect I'll be in England for very long."

"You still plan to leave." There was a hard edge to Parker's voice. He pushed away from the door, entering fully into the room.

Ron dropped his hands from his eyes. "To be honest, I haven't decided yet."

"I can't believe you're actually debating this."

"I thought about what you've said." Ron said in a cool, collected voice. "And I understand what you're saying. I get it. I do."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I…" He bit back the words. He paused a moment, taking a breath. "I just don't know if I can do it anymore."

"Of course you can." Parker dismissed harshly. "You're the best…"

"I didn't mean," Ron interrupted, "that I didn't think I'm capable of doing this anymore." He turned his head so that he could look up at Parker. "I know what you think of my…abilities. I know you think I can do this…But I just don't know if I can…_handle_ doing this anymore. I'm exhausted."

Parker opened his mouth to argue but couldn't think of a single one to make. He could see the toll this was taking on Ron. He had been through so much more in the past two months then he had in all the other years they worked together combined. It was there in his eyes. In the stoop of his shoulders. Emotionally, Ron was drained.

"Look," Ron said before Parker could find the right words. "I haven't decided anything yet. I won't make a hasty decision. But, when I do decide, you'll probably be the first to know."

Parker shook his head, weather in denial or conviction, Ron couldn't be certain. "You'll never do it." He said.

Ron shrugged wearily. "We'll see. Anyway, I don't really want to talk about this anymore."

Parker shrugged. "You're the Captain."

Ron rolled his eyes. "For now." He said under his breath.

Feeling restless Ron rose to his feet and crossed the room to the one small window looking out over a little square. He watched the Muggles as they went on with their lives down bellow, completely unaware that the building that shaded them from the sun was filled with people wielding magic. For a moment Ron let his mind wander, trying to imagine what a life without magic would be like.

On the one hand he couldn't fathom it. He had never known a world without magic. He wouldn't begin to know what to do. But at the same time, if he had been born a Muggle he probably wouldn't be as unhappy as he was right now.

Ron turned away from the window. The couple snogging just on the other side of the glass was making him nauseous. He crossed his arms over his middle and sat on the window sill, giving his back to the happy couple outside.

Parker was sitting at the table, in the chair Ron had occupied, spinning the quill between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes were trained on the plumage that fluffed out while the feather spun, but his gaze seemed oddly unfocused. "Can I ask you a question?" He lowered the quill from his line of site but continued to spin it.

Ron let out his breath in a slow stream. "Nothing's stopped you before."

Parker dropped the quill to the table top. "What's it like to be a father?"

Ron sucked in a harsh breath through his nose. His face went suddenly expressionless. "Parker." There was a warning tone to his voice. A tight strain that indicated he was likely to snap.

"I'm only curious."

"Why?" Ron asked through gritted teeth.

"Because," Parker shrugged. "Before all of this, with you and Blake, I never thought much about having children myself. To be perfectly honest, I didn't really care either way. But after watching you, with her…You just seemed to love being a dad so much. I want to know why. What changed? You told me you never wanted to be a father."

Ron's jaw stiffened painfully. His throat worked to swallow. "If I didn't know any better I might think you were deliberately trying to provoke me."

Parker stared resolutely at him. "I really want to know."

Ron closed his eyes as he fought back an image of a smiling Blake. His face twitched as he struggled to control his emotions. Trying to appear unaffected, Ron lifted his chin another notch and squared his shoulders. "Nothing's changed." His eyes didn't waver from Parker's "My advice would be to avoid having children at all costs."

"Ron," Parker reached a hand towards him uselessly.

Ron shifted his eyes off his partner to stare unseeingly into the space between them. "You can't imagine what it's like." His eyes glanced towards him then quickly away. "Watching them take Blake away...And then on top of that, having her be kidnapped…" His throat struggled to swallow again. "There's nothing…How can I…" He paused, taking several shaky breaths. "I thought watching them take her would be the most painful thing I've ever lived through. But this…this…" He turned his face to the side, his eyes drifted closed.

"Ron," Parker began tentatively, "What happened to you…that's not normal. Most parents…The circumstances with Blake…" He stopped. He was at a complete loss at what to say.

Ron's head shook slowly from side to side. "If you never have children, nothing and no one can ever take them away."

"That's a very sad and lonely way to live your life."

"Maybe." He agreed. "But being alone has got to be better then this. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't know if she's alive. I don't know if someone's hurting her right now. I don't know if she's suffering…" Ron stopped, blinking the moisture out of his eyes.

Parker crossed the room to Ron and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find her. I swear we'll bring her home."

"We will." Ron nodded. "And by then hopefully I'll have found a good family to take her."

Parker's mouth dropped open in shock half a minute before he pursed his lips unhappily. He didn't for one minute believe the words coming out of Ron's mouth. He could spout all the nonsense he wanted about giving Blake up, but when it came down to it that wasn't what he really wanted. He'd said it himself, there was nothing worse then the pain of losing a child.

Parker crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, the better to observe Ron. He focused on his face. There was something about his eyes, the set of his chin, the thin line of his mouth, that he had seen before. His eyes narrowed as he thought. It wasn't until he took in the whole picture that he realized why it was so familiar.

The first time he had _officially_ met Ron was their first day of Auror training. He had come into the room with the rest of the new recruits. Most of them were clumped together in small groups, generally divided by the house they had belonged to while at Hogwarts. Only Ron was alone. Like now, he half sat on the sill of a window, arms crossed over his chest, feet crossed at the ankles. The same expressionless mask on his face.

Parker sagged with the realization. Of course he had known that Ron wasn't in the best place right now, but he hadn't realized it was as bad as all that. The last time Ron had been like this it had taken him five years to come out of it, and that was only because he had been all but forced to. This couldn't be happening again. If Ron stuck to pattern he would do everything in his power to force Blake out of his life. He would push her away just as forcibly as he had Hermione. It had taken him five years to forgive and let her back in his life. Five years? Blake didn't have that kind of time. In five years she'd be nearly six and it would be far too late for the both of them. Which meant it was time for him to intervene again. Ron needed that little girl just as much as she needed him.

Suddenly Parker couldn't wait to get back to England, no longer caring if it meant an end to Ron's Auror career. Now that the Javeds were safely in custody he would renew his efforts to find Blake. He would search longer and harder, on the Ministries time. He no longer gave a damn if it wasn't their case. Jillian Oldham had failed to do her job. It was time for the Alphas to step up, Ministry Policy be damned. Roland Greene could piss, moan and threaten all he wanted, they wouldn't take another case until Blake was home.

"We were in luck." Pavao Celan was back, his face bright and cheerful. "I found Levanat just as she was leaving her office. She approved the application. You are free to escort your prisoners back to England."

Ron pushed his body up from the window. He was across the room in a few long strides, taking Pavao's hand in his and shaking it firmly. "Thank you for handling this so quickly. We appreciate your added efforts."

"Not at all." Pavao released his hand. "We want the Javeds extradited just as much as you. We pride ourselves on having few criminals in our boundaries."

Giving the man's hand a final shake, Ron let it drop. "Then we won't waste any more of your time." He accepted the signed extradite order and motioned for Parker to follow.

Parker hurried his steps so he could fall in beside Ron. "This isn't over." He said in a lowered voice. "We'll finish this conversation at home."

"I wish you would just let it go."

Parker scrunched his nose. "I'll never stop watching out for you."

Ron let out a puff of annoyed air as he used his wand to open the sealed holding cell door. He mumbled something under his breath about mothers that Parker couldn't quite catch.

The door swung wide with a groan and the two Aurors stepped into the cell. "Alright you two." Ron placed one hand on his hip and directed his wand toward the couple with the other. "Up. It's time to go home."

Carbonell glared up at Ron through hate filled eyes. "You won't get away with this." His arms tightened around his wife.

Ron let out a long sigh of irritation. "Seeing as how I haven't broken any laws I don't think I need worry about 'getting away' with anything. You on the other hand are going to have a nice long stay in Azkaban."

Melantha trembled in her husband's arms. "How did it come to this?" she looked up into his eyes. "How did a _Weasley_ get the better of us?"

Carbonell pressed his lips together, unwilling to admit defeat even now.

"That's enough you two." Ron motioned with his wand. "On your feet." When the couple didn't move he pulled them up with his wand. Together he and Parker maneuvered them out the door and through the Ministry until they reached the Office of International Portkeys. Ron handed over the appropriate documents and soon the first portkey was resting on a table, waiting for the first pair to activate it.

"Alright then." Ron forced the couple apart and gently pushed Melantha towards Parker. "You take the woman. I'll follow behind with him." He nodded his head to the side, indicating Carbonell.

"Yes sir." Parker bent forward in a deep, mocking bow. "Mrs Javed."

Melantha sneered unattractively at him. "Enjoy this while you can."

Parker straightened to his full height. "You have me terrified." He said, voice laced with amusement.

Ignoring him, Melantha turned back to her husband. She stared accusingly at him. "You promised me, Carbonell. You _promised_ me."

Carbonell reached for his wife. Ron almost intervened but in the end let them hug once more. He doubted they would ever have the chance again.

Carbonell held his wife's face to his chest. He pressed a kiss to her hair before he lifted his eyes and focused on Ron over her shoulder. "This isn't over."

Ron stared boldly back at him. "For you it is." He used his wand to separate the pair once more. He bound Carbonell's hands with magic while across the room Parker did the same with Melantha.

Parker finished the spell with a flourish. "Do you think we've given them enough time?" he asked, glancing up at Ron.

Ron looked at his watch. "I think so. But even if we haven't, these two aren't going anywhere."

"Right then." It took a little bit of maneuvering on his part, but finally Parker had Melantha situated so that they would both touch the portkey at the same time. With a great whoosh they were gone.

"I can't believe it's come to this." Carbonell seethed under his breath.

"You shouldn't have underestimated me." Ron said, positioning Carbonell. "It's a mistake you share with many others." He touched the portkey and they were both swept up into a tumbling portal of sound and colour.

After several minutes of spiraling through space, colliding painfully with the body next to him, Ron's feet slammed into the floor. He bent his knees to absorb the impact and managed to keep his balance. Seconds after landing Ron had his wand retrained on the Death Eater who had ended his journey sprawled on the floor. "On your feet." He ordered impassively.

"I'll take things from here, Captain Weasley."

Ron glanced up through lowered eyes to see five of Azkaban's guards waiting in the room, two of them with Melantha already in their custody. Satisfied that everything was under control he nodded and stepped aside so they could take Carbonell.

Slowly he lowered his wand. "Be careful with these two." He glared at the couple. "I don't want to hear that they somehow managed to escape." One of the guards taking Carbonell rolled his eyes.

"You have nothing to worry about, Sir." The first man said. "We do this all the time."

"Right. Well…" he glanced at his watch, "I have a report to finish." He said dismissively, turning towards Parker who tapped his wand against the door, causing it to swing open.

"Actually, Captain," the same man stopped him again, holding a hand out. "If you have a moment, I was hoping I could speak with you."

Ron glanced inquiringly at Parker who shrugged in return. He turned back to the guard. "Yes, of course…Mr Peel." He said, recognizing Azkaban's Head Guard now that he had finally given him his full attention.

The two men stepped aside to let the other guards pass.

"What is this about?" Ron asked as the last guard exited and Parker turned to follow.

"I wanted to speak with you about Hermione Granger."

Parker froze halfway through the doorway. He spun back around, his eyes wide with concern. "What about her?"

It took Thomas a moment to turn and look at Parker. He was waiting for some kind of reaction out of Ron. Slowly he turned his head to look between the two men, confusion evident on his face. Their reactions were not what he would have expected. Where he had expected to see immediate alarm on Ron Weasley's face there was nothing. And on Parker Gale's, where he had expected nothing, there was deep concern. Adjusting his plans quickly, Thomas turned to Parker, gauging him as the most receptive.

"I've come asking for help on Hermione Granger's behalf. I've been trying to reach either you," he directed the comment towards Ron, "Or Captain Potter for almost a week. Ms Granger…she isn't doing very well."

Parker took a step towards the guard. "How would you know that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Ron asked, answering for Thomas. "She's been charged and moved to Azkaban."

"Yes." Peel's eyes narrowed on Ron. "She has." His frown deepened. "You don't seem very concerned." He observed.

"Should I be?" Ron asked evenly.

"I would have thought so…You are one of her best friends…aren't you?"

"No." Ron said curtly, crossing his arms over his chest in a menacing pose. "Not that it's any of your concern, but I'm not. Ms Granger and I are no longer on speaking terms."

Thomas's brow arched. "But…but I've heard her call for you. It's always you."

Parker saw something flash across Ron's face. It was there for only a second before it was gone, once again hidden behind his carefully expressionless mask.

"What exactly has happened?" Parker asked, coming to stand next to the guard.

Thomas's eyes never left Ron even as he spoke to Parker. "Captain Oldham had Ms Granger placed in a high security cell. She's been under constant Dementor supervision."

Parker's hands curled into fists at his side. "That's ridiculous." He took an unconscious step. "Hermione isn't dangerous."

"Clearly. That's not why she's there though. Captain Oldham hopes she can use the Dementor's powers to break her and get her to talk." He shook his head with disgust. "But it isn't working. All it's done is…well…to be frank, she's loosing her mind."

"Then move her." Parker all but shouted. "Get her away from them."

"I _can't_." Thomas insisted. "_I_ don't have the power to move prisoners between different levels of security. Not unless a prisoner is a threat to the guards or to themselves. She hasn't tried and escape, she hasn't tried and take her own life, nor has she threatened a guard's. And even if she had, we could only increase the security on her, not decrease it."

"Which is why you came to me." The two men turned to Ron. "When you couldn't reach me or Harry why didn't you go to Ronland Greene? He could have made the arrangements."

"I've tried." Thomas threw up his hands with frustration. "He's even harder to reach then you've been. He's been called to stand in front of the Wizengamout. He's being questioned about allegations of bribery and corrosion taking place in the Ministry. He hasn't the time for me right now."

Ron looked momentarily surprised by the news but quickly relaxed his face into the increasingly normal mask of unconcern. "Which is something we have in common. If you'll excuse me?"

Thomas's mouth gapped open with shock.

"Ron." Parker stuttered his name with disbelief.

"I can't help her, Parker." He shook his head. "I just…I can't."

"Can't? Or won't?"

Ron bristled under Parker's accusing tone. "Take your pick."

Parker's head shook slowly from side to side. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Look," Ron flung his hand out in front of him. "Even if I wanted to help, there's nothing I can do. I've been banned from the case. Remember?"

"But you're Ron Weasley." Thomas spluttered. "Surely there must be something you can do."

"Like I said," he turned back to the guard. "Ms Granger and I are no longer friends. Even if I could help her, why would I? Have you forgotten what she's been accused of? My dau…" Ron closed his eyes for a moment as he sucked in several deep breaths. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." He repeated, slower then the last time. "Perhaps Parker can help you. He seems to believe it's his duty to protect Ms Granger. He's nearly as much clout as I do. Excuse me."

Ron pushed past the two men and fled the room before they could argue with him further. Thomas stared after him, mouth open. Slowly he turned back to Parker. "I don't understand." He flung a hand out. "What the hell was that?"

"I'm afraid Ron and Hermione've… had a bit of a falling out."

"A falling out? A _falling out?_" Thomas barked. "How is that even possible? I've heard the stories. The Golden Trios's friendship is meant to be legendary."

"I don't know what to say to you, Peel." Parker found himself defending his friend despite his own disapproval. "Ron is…well…Ron's not having a very easy time of it right now."

"I'm more then aware of that. That's still no excuse. Hermione Granger needs his help."

Parker's right brow arched high. "What do you mean, _you're more then aware of that_?"

"I know how hard of a time he's been having. It's been in the papers. From the death of the Blythes, to Captain Weasley loosing custody of the child to the Javeds. Which is why I don't understand. I know Ms Granger is the one who handled his case."

"Yes," Parker sighed. "And I think that might be a great deal of the problem." He gnawed for a moment on his bottom lip before nodding. "I'll speak with him."

"Be honest with me," there was real concern in Thomas's voice. "Do you think there's anything you can do for her?"

"Me personally? No." He shook his head. "I don't have the power to overrule Jillian Oldham. Very few people in the Ministry do. Unfortunately for us, one of them just happened to walk out that door. But I'll talk to him." Parker sighed heavily. "It's times like this I really hate how stubborn he is."

"Just so you know," Thomas said hesitantly, "I wouldn't waste very much time. I don't know how much more of this she can take before it damages her permanently."

Parker's eyes narrowed on the man. "Why are you so concerned about Hermione Granger? What's she to you."

Thomas's jaw stiffened. He didn't appreciate the insinuation that his motives towards Hermione Granger were anything less then pure. "What Captain Oldham is doing to her isn't right. Ms Granger is a hero. She doesn't deserve this. No one in her position does. What those three did for us is nothing short of a miracle. We owe her. _I_ owe her. She fought for us, risked her life. Now I'm going to fight for her."

Parker stared at him a moment longer debating, before he finally relaxed, satisfied. "I'm sure Hermione appreciates that."

Thomas nodded. "As I said, do what you can." He looked out the door from over his shoulder. "I have to go." He turned back to Parker. "My men will be wondering where I am."

"Of course." Parker swept his hand toward the door, prompting Thomas to leave first. "I have a few things to take care of myself."

On the other end of the floor, Ron silently leaned against the wall, waiting for a lift to arrive. His thoughts were spinning around in his head to quick for him to really comprehend. He wasn't entirely sure how he should be feeling or what he should be thinking.

Hermione was in Azkaban? Despite knowing it would be a distinct possibility, he had never actually believed it would come to that. _Hermione Granger_ in prison? It seemed a complete contradiction of terms. He never thought he'd see the day.

Inside him his emotions were warring. On the one hand, Hermione had hurt him. Terribly. He had put his complete faith in her, risked his heart again. And for what? An ache in his chest that never went away? A house full of empty promises? The complete annihilation of his life? Under the circumstances he couldn't help but feel a small amount of satisfaction over her current situation. Why shouldn't she suffer a little bit too? Why should he be the only one to leave their mockery of relationship in pain?

On the other hand, no matter what she had done to him, weather she was guilty or not, she didn't deserve around the clock Dementor supervision…Much.

But still, his hands were tied. And he didn't owe her anything either. Besides, she'd made it perfectly clear what she thought of his capabilities and how much she wanted him a part of her life. She didn't want anything to do with him? Fine. That could include his help as well. He wasn't a good Auror after all, was he? Unable to save even his own child.

Ron shook his head to clear it of those unhappy thoughts. It did him no good to dwell on either of them. They were both lost to him now. He would still do everything in his power to protect Blake. He'd find her. He'd bring her home. And he'd make sure she ahd a loving couple to go to when she did. One that would love her, and protect her, and would never let any harm come to her again. Then he would go his own way and start his life over. But he would find her first. The alternative was unbearable to even think. He struggled to keep his jaw from shaking. Safer still to try and not think of her at all.

The lift chimed as it settled to a stop on his floor. The gates slid open and a short wizard with an extremely round belly stepped off. The bright grin slid off his face when he recognized Ron.

Ron watched the man force his lips into a sympathetic smile. He looked almost as if he was going to reach out and pat him on the arm, but stopped himself from doing so. Ron stared after the man, confused, but dismissed him just as quickly. The doors to the lift started to slide closed and Ron slipped inside before they could shut him out. Sparing the call board only the slightest glance, he reached for the button that indicated his floor. He jabbed it sharply and waited a moment to make sure it lit up before going to lean against the back wall.

There was one other person standing in the lift, also leaning against the back wall. He hadn't spared her more then a glance when getting in, but she hadn't taken her eyes off him since. Feeling uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he crossed his arms over his body while lowering his chin to his chest. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, releasing a wave of uncomfortable energy. She turned her face away but her eyes kept darting back to him.

Ron recrossed his arms uncomfortably. "Do you mind?" He asked when her gaze lingered longer then necessary.

"Sorry." She snapped her focus back forward, her face darkening with immense heat. "I didn't mean to bother you." She couldn't help glancing at him again. "It's just…You're Ron Weasley, aren't you?" Her face showed her reluctance to ask.

He tilted his head to the side so he could better see her. She no longer bothered hiding her curiosity, but was staring at him openly. He didn't respond, but lifted his brow as if to ask, 'Who wants to know?'

She smiled sheepishly. "I recognized your picture from the papers. My father talks about you all of the time."

"Does he?" Ron asked, clearly uninterested.

"Yes." She lowered her face bashfully. "I'm afraid he's been trying to get us to meet for quite some time now."

Ron turned at that, interest piqued.

"Bernie." She held out her hand, smiling amiably. "Bernie Hamlin."

"Ollie's daughter." Ron said with comprehension. "Of course." He took her hand politely, years of instructions from his mother coming into play. "I should have known. He talks about you all the time. How is…er…" he closed his eyes as he wracked his brain, "Healer training?"

Bernie flushed again as she pulled her hand away, hiding the action by tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Fine. I was released early today so I thought I would escort my Da home. It's my night with him."

Ron nodded. "I assumed as much. It's really wonderful what you and your siblings do for him. He'll never tell you, but it means the world to him."

"I know." Bernie smiled sweetly. "But thank you just the same for telling me."

The lift slowed to a stop and the gates opened. Bernie risked a quick glance to her left. "This is me." She nodded her head to the side. She stared at him a moment longer before she turned to step off. Ron was just reaching for the button to close the gates when she turned around, a thoughtful expression on her face. "If you like… That is if you don't have other plans… You could come and join us for dinner tonight. I know Da would love to have you."

Surprise flashed across Ron's face at the unexpected invitation. His eyes narrowed slightly as he considered. He didn't react until the gates began to close on their own. He reached out instinctually and stopped them with his hand.

"Thank you for the invitation." He said slowly. "Perhaps some other night I would have accepted," he watched her face drop with what appeared to be disappointment, "but I just returned from an assignment and am quite nackered."

The same dull red stained her cheeks as she diverted her eyes. "Another time then." She offered.

"Perhaps." He agreed, letting the gates go.

Ron watched as Bernie's hand darted up to once again tuck an auburn curl behind her ear. She offered him a reluctant smile. "It was nice to finally meet you, Mr Weasley." She said just before the gates closed.

Ron returned the barest hint of a smile just as the lift shifted into motion.

* * *

The Great Dane leapt forward from Thomas's side and bound down the hall. His silver glow disappeared through the same thick wooden door. Thomas followed slowly behind. He stopped at the door and peered through the small window.

The massive, gleaming dog sat on its haunches at Hermione's side, its head resting almost heavily on her shoulder. Hermione sat frozen, her body stiff and rigged. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she leaned into the dog and some of the rigidness left her shoulders. She drew in a breath that caused her shoulders to shudder slightly.

Thomas's fingers curled tightly around one of the bars in the doors window. He bent his head forward until his brow was resting against the rough wood of the door. A slow hiss of air escaped through his teeth.

Curse Ron Weasley. Curse Ron Weasley for…for…for what? Being a complete disappointment? For being less then the heroic figure he'd heard so many stories about? For being nothing like the man he had thought him to be? All seemed equally justifiable reasons to curse him.

His fingers contracted tighter around the bar. Trying to talk to Ron Weasley had been a complete waste of time and it had done absolutely nothing to help Hermione Granger's current condition. She was still suffering needlessly. All Weasley would have to do was talk to a few people and Hermione's life would be so much more comfortable.

"I take it things didn't go as you planned today."

Thomas glanced briefly over his shoulder before he returned his focus to the small woman in the cell. "No." He said unhappily when the man drew even with him. "They didn't." He pounded his fist against the door firmly, but not loud enough to bother the woman inside. "I just don't understand." He kept his voice lower so it wouldn't travel. "Why won't he help? He's Ronald Bloody Weasley, for Merlin's sake. Defender of Muggles and Muggleborns alike. Why wouldn't he help the girl who was his best friend?"

The other guard's shoulders lifted in a brief shrug. "Maybe you don't know all of the story."

"I don't have to know all of the story to know that helping her," he nodded towards Hermione, "is the right thing to do."

"Maybe." The man agreed. "But there's nothing more you can do for her. She isn't your responsibility. Not beyond making sure she stays where she is and stays alive. You've done both, so your job is done. Forget about her." The man turned to look through the window at Hermione. "Everyone else has."

"Which is exactly why I can't." His eyes lowered until they were closed. "I have to find a way to help her."

The other man stood quietly there as he thought. "You could keep trying Potter." He suggested. "He's got to resurface sometime. And when he does I'm sure he'll be able to do something."

Thomas's jaw stiffened. "Where the hell is he anyway? How could he take off like that when all hell's broken lose? How could he go off and help his brother-in-law with a business venture when one of his best friends is rotting in prison like this?"

"I don't know." The man shook his head. "But what ever he and Weasley are doing, it has got to be really important."

"We'll see about that."

There was another pause in the conversation while the two men watched Hermione sit unmoving on the floor, her body still leaning in towards the bright Patronus.

Finally the other man broke the silence. "I need you to come sign the final papers."

Thomas waved him aside dismissively. "I'll be there in a minute. Go on without me."

For a moment the other guard looked like he was going to argue but thought better of it. He turned away shaking his head.

Thomas stared through the little window for a few minutes longer. Unable to stand the heartbreaking sight in the cell in front of him, he took a step back preparing to call the Great Dane to his side.

"You shouldn't come here again." A voice croaked in the darkness.

Thomas froze. He took the step back to the door. Hermione had turned her head, still resting on her knees. "What was that?" He asked.

Her lips parted. Her tongue darted out to wet them. "You shouldn't come here again." Her voice was low and brittle. She sounded like she had been screaming. Which, he realized with a start, she probably had.

"Ms Granger?"

"I know you mean well." Her voice cracked. She closed her eyes against him. "But it…" she swallowed and started again. "It won't be so dif…difficult…if…" Her voice chocked off. She turned her face away. "Please don't come here anymore."

"Ms Granger," He watched her body tense. "Let me help you."

Her fingers curled into tight fists. She pounded them into her legs. "Don't you get it?" She lifted her head so he could see the tears running down her face. "Every time you come here it gets harder for me to let you leave. I know…I know what's happening to me. I know I'm loosing my…my…my mi…" She floundered as more tears chocked her throat and streaked down her face. She didn't bother to wipe them away. "But at least when they're here, when I don't have moments of sanity, I don't understand its happening."

"Ms Granger, Hermione, I…" He watched despondently as Hermione reached for the dog with her frail looking fingers, but stopped before they could touch the shimmering fur. She let them drop before silently ordering the Patronus back to Thomas's side.

"Please, don't come back." She turned her face back to the wall. "Don't make this any harder for me then it already is."

"You can't expect me to just…just…_let_ you lose your mind without even trying to help."

Hermione hunched over her legs. "Please don't come back here again." She repeated.

Thomas stared at her moments longer. He wanted to stay and argue with her. To try and convince her to keep fighting and to let him help. But how could he deny her request. He didn't know what it was like. He had never felt the full affect of the Dementors power. He couldn't imagine what it was like to lose your mind and to know that that was what was happing to you. And for someone like Hermione Granger, who was by all reports one of the cleverest witches to pass through Hogwarts in a good many years, and who quite obviously prized her intelligence above all else, it had to be torture.

Perhaps she was right. Perhaps remaining lost inside your own head was kinder then having that reprieve and knowing you'd have to go back into it.

Thomas sighed heavily. "Alright." He conceded. "I won't come back anymore."

Hermione left her head resting on her knees but nodded the slightest bit. "Thank you."

He wanted to say your welcome but couldn't bring himself to do it. To him it didn't feel like he was doing her any favors. So instead he turned and walked away, keeping his Patronus close by hid side.

As soon as he was a safe distance away from her door he could hear the Dementors returning to their posts. Moments later he could hear Hermione muttering to herself. He wasn't even halfway down the hall. She was calling out for Ron before the door swung closed behind him.

* * *

Harry remained belted in his seat as the plain taxied toward the arrival gate, trying his best to ignore the impatient Muggle sitting next to him. The man had his belt unlatched and sat on the edge of his seat, ready to spring for the exit the moment the door opened.

Harry sighed with exhaustion as he leaned back into his seat. He was glad to finally be home. In the end he had extended his stay in Spain beyond the original three days. It had taken longer to make plans then he had originally anticipated. When the time came to bring Blake home she couldn't just be dropped off at Ron's door step. They had to find a way to get her home without anyone else being implicated. It wasn't just Hermione and Beila who would go to jail for their involvement now. He and Fred were a part of it as well. On top of that Harry had needed to find a way to communicate with Fred that couldn't be detected by the Ministry. Not only to let them know when it was safe to bring Blake home, but also to warn them incase anyone grew wise and came looking for them.

Harry looked at his knees and picked at the fabric with his short nails. While it did feel nice to finally be back on English soil, it hadn't felt right leaving Blake behind. Of course he understood all the reasons for keeping her safely hidden in Spain, he had pointed out the most of them. But still he wanted turn around, go back to Spain, retrieve Blake, and bring her home. He didn't know how exactly he was going to face Ron again without her.

He had no idea what he was going to say when the time came. How was he meant to go on pretending like nothing had changed, watching Ron suffer needlessly day after day, when it was in his power to do something? If only there was a way of telling Ron what he knew without him running off, unhinged, and implicating them all. No. In order to keep them all out of prison Harry would have to wait and try and ease Ron's suffering as much as he could. Eventually, when it was safe, he would fill in the Weasleys on where Blake had been hiding, but until then…

Harry shuttered as he imagined Ron's wrath when the time came. He wouldn't be surprised, nor would he blame him, if Ron didn't speak to him for a very long time. But in the end he would take Ron's silence. What he did was for the best. And Ron would forgive him…someday.

Harry closed his eyes against the dim light filtering in through the double plated window. The sky outside was so different from the sunshine he'd left behind in Spain. The overcast skies alone were enough to dampen his mood. But he tried to console himself with the knowledge that in just another few minutes he could disembark the plane, make his way through customs, find a toilet and apparate home.

His eyes opened at the thought of home. It was Ginny's smiling face he saw now. He missed her more then ever. As hard as it was to be away from her when everything was normal between them, it was even worse when things weren't. He had made promises to Ginny after the war, promises he hadn't had trouble keeping, until recently that was.

The plane came to a stop and the engines powered down. Metallic clicks filled the plane as passengers unlatched their lap belts. Some passengers leapt from their seats and into the isles, opening the overhead compartments in one movement. Bags were pulled down, most coming close to hitting other passengers in the head.

"Excuse me." The man next to Harry was standing in a half hunched over position.

"By all means." Harry said, moving his knees. He waited patiently as the man tried to climb over his legs without falling into his lap.

Harry remained sitting, ignoring the glare the man from the seat continued to throw him and waited until the last of the heavy traffic passed him before be stood and retrieved his own bag. He followed several paces behind the crowd as they worked their way off the plane and through costumes. The whole process seemed so much easier this time without Fred there to watch out for.

The moment he was through customs he went looking for the nearest toilet. As soon as he spotted one he ducked inside, checking first to make certain he was alone before he dissapperated.

The house was quiet when he reappeared. Setting his bag quietly on the floor he lifted his wrist to eye level, checking the time on his watch. If his time was correct, Ginny was just putting Si down for his afternoon nap.

He hesitated a moment, debating weather to go find Ginny or bring his bag up to his room first and let her finish with Si. His decision was made for him when from at the top of the stairs came his name, hushed but excited, from Ginny.

The two silently stared at each other, both frozen in place. Both scared to make the first move. Heart tightening Harry took a step, "Gin,"

She was flying down the stairs toward him before he could say another word. He hesitated only a moment before he raced up to meet her. They came together on the staircase, Ginny throwing herself at Harry the way she had all those years ago when they had shared their first kiss in the Gryffindor Common Room, nearly knocking Harry off his feet.

Not giving her a chance to say anything, Harry gently gripped her head, bringing her lips around to meet his. She kissed him back willingly, arms tightening around his neck.

"Where the hell have you been?" She growled when they broke apart, gripping his hair between her fingers to keep his face close to hers.

"I'm sorry love." He kissed her again. "It took me longer then I thought it would."

Her fingers tightened in his hair, straining the flesh and causing it to smart. "You could have owled me. Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"

"I'm sorry, love." He ignored the pain in his scalp and reached up to tenderly run his fingers through her hair, using the delay to decide the best way to answer. "I was working a case and…"

"Bullocks." Ginny released his hair the same time she unwrapped her legs from around his waist. "You said nothing about a case when you left."

"There wasn't time and…"

"Stop." She threw up her hands as if to hold him off. "Stop lying to me. The office wouldn't have flooed here looking for you if you were on a Ministry assigned case. I had to _lie_ to the Ministry for you. So you had better start telling me the truth."

Harry lowered his head a fraction. "I never said it was a Ministry case, Ginny."

Ginny frowned at him as she mulled over his words. "Not a Ministry case?" She said slowly. "Which means…you were either looking for Blake…or trying to help Hermione." Her eyes narrowed in on his. "But you _couldn't_ have been trying to help Hermione because you would need to be _here_ to do that. But you _couldn't_ have been looking for Blake. There'd be no need to keep _that_ secret from the Ministry. Would there?"

Harry didn't answer.

Ginny's hands found their way to her hips. "Harry James Potter, what have you been doing?"

"What do you think I was doing?" he asked reluctantly.

Ginny stared steadily into his eyes. "I want you to tell me."

Ginny held her breath. For a moment she feared he wouldn't answer her. That he would turn around and walk away.

"You were wrong on both accounts." He said softly. "I was doing both."

"Both?" She arched a brow.

"I didn't tell you where I was going for two reasons. If anyone from the Ministry _did_ ask, which they did, you wouldn't have anything to tell them."

Ginny did not look happy with that answer. "And the other reason?"

"You told me you didn't want to hear what I was doing to help Hermione."

Ginny's eyes narrowed with anger. "I want to hear when it means your going to be gone for a week." Her voice started to rise with volume. "Especially when it means I'm not going to be hearing from you. How could you…_leave_ like that? Just take off on me and don't…"

"I had to move quickly."

"Clearly you didn't move quickly enough."

"How do you mean?"

"You said you were looking for Blake. You didn't bring Blake home with you." She gestured to his empty arms. "Clearly you didn't find her. Were you even really looking for her?"

"Of course I was."

"Then tell me where you were. You can tell me that much."

Harry opened his mouth, holding it that way for a silent moment. "No." He shook his head. "I can't."

"You can't tell me?" She stared him down a minute longer. "You can't tell me?" She repeated again before she walked past him down the stairs.

"Gin…" Harry turned with her.

She stopped at the bottom and turned back to face him, one hand gripping the banister. "Do you have any idea what's been going on here since you left?"

"I…"  
"Ron was here yesterday." She cut him off. "He came to talk to you, but you weren't here. He told me he intends to resign. He plans to move to America as soon as he can. He hasn't told Mum yet of course, he wouldn't 've told me except he came here looking for you. But I'm sure she'll handle it with the same grace she did the news that Bill was moving to Egypt or Charlie Romania. Actually, I expect she'll take it even better, seeing as Ron's her baby boy and he's already been through so much more then the rest of us."

Harry's chest tightened when he saw the accusation in her eyes. "What do you expect me to do?" He turned his head so he wasn't looking directly at her. "I'm doing everything I can."

"You have to go and talk to him."

"And what good will that do?" Harry threw out his arms, frustrated. "Nothing I can say is going to make him feel better right now."

Ginny flung a hand out towards the door. "Just go over there and convince him not to leave."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" Ginny snapped. "Why not? Ron has always followed you."

"No." Harry said firmly, finally turning back to her. "Ron has always stood beside me. He never followed. He wasn't my sidekick or my minion. He was my friend. I expect you understand the difference. I never told him to do anything."

Harry struggled to smother his annoyance. He understood why she was lashing out. She was worried and scarred and under a great deal of stress after all. He took a calming breath before slowly taking a step towards his wife. "I'll talk to him." He said slowly. "I'll try and reason with him. But I won't try and make him do anything."

Ginny's eyes closed as she lowered her chin. She blinked and a tear slid down her cheek.

"Ginny." Harry croaked, rushing to her side and folding her into his arms. "Don't cry. I'll talk to him."

"I don't want him to leave, Harry." She pressed her face into his shoulder. "He should be here, with his family. This shouldn't be happening. Any of it. Not anymore. "

"Shhh," Harry soothed, swaying gently with her. "Shhh." He kissed the crown of her head. "Everything will be alright. You'll see."

"How can it ever be when everything's gone so wrong?"

Harry's arms tightened. "We'll find a way." He turned his head and rested his cheek on the top of Ginny's head. "I owe him too much to let him down now."


	27. Confessions

I want to thank everyone who's helped over the past month or so. When you all came together and helped me with my story being stolen, you have absolutely no idea what that meant to me. And still means to me. No one should ever have to go through that, and because of you I felt like I wasn't alone. Your support was absolutely vital to me. Understandably I'm still hurt by what happened, but I'm not devastated anymore. And I was there for a while. So my deepest and most sincere thank you to all of you who helped me. I will forever be in your debt.

Now if anyone can tell me why my brand new computer, yes I finally broke down and bought one, refuses to read the wireless driver, we could get all this moving so much faster. I mean honestly, I had it working for five minutes and then that was it. So I have Word on my computer but no internet and there is internet on the house computer, but no Word. It would be great if I could finally have a computer with both.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I think it's the longest chapter I've ever written.

Thank you and I love you all, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Confessions

"Would you get out of my way?" Samuel Paxman pushed his way past Ministry personal, shoving them into walls and knocking them onto the floor, too much in a hurry to bother attempting to be inconspicuous.

He was in trouble. More trouble then his frazzled mind could comprehend at the moment. Not only had Carbonell and Melantha got themselves arrested, they had gotten Erik Wells taken into custody as well. Idiots. Now it was only a matter of time before connections were made and trails started leading to him. Hell, for all he knew they already could be. On like the others he wasn't a fool. He knew he was safe only so long as Wells kept his fool mouth shut. Carbonell and Melantha knew to keep their mouths shut. The case Weasley and his men had built against them was weak at best. The only way they would be going to jail was if someone unearthed Grangers missing case file against them. As far as they knew he would be the one representing them in their hearing. If it were him handling their case they'd get off with only a few years in prison at most. That was nothing compared to the life time they'd get otherwise.

But Wells…now Wells was a different matter. He could be a problem. He had nothing to gain by keeping quiet and everything to lose. It wouldn't take long for the damn Aurors to convince him it was in his best interest to talk. A promise of a lesser sentence, or, Paxman hurried his step, they could have the whole thing dismissed completely. After all, creating a few illegal portkeys was nothing compared to what the rest of them had done. If Wells had an ounce of common sense he could easily seal the deal by throwing in a few destinations of other Portkeys he had made. No, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he'd talk. Which meant he didn't have much, if any, time to make his escape. It wouldn't be long before the Alphas were beating down his door.

Lucky for him he'd planned for this eventuality. All the files he needed from his office were hidden in the same, secure location. He had a case packed in his front hall closet, stocked with everything he needed to disappear and start over somewhere new. Not to mention his own illegal portkey to get there. All he would need to do was destroy some of the more incriminating documents, least some of his more powerful clients were found out and came after him, a task that wouldn't take long, apparate home, grab his case, and go. Of course he couldn't remain in France long, the Aurors would undoubtedly quickly follow, but at least it would give him some needed time to escape as they processed the paper work.

He turned the corner and his office came into view up ahead. He quickened his pace, more anxious to be gone with the room in sight. His sense of dread was mounting the longer he remained in the Ministry. He half expected one of those damn Alphas to burst out of one of the office doors and arrest him, all in the name of defending their Captain. He unconsciously screwed up his face. It was sickening the way they banned together like that. It was no wonder there weren't many Slytherins foolish enough to join the Aurors. It was definitely more of a Gryffindor house occupation.

Paxman flung open the door to his office and hurried inside, slamming the door closed behind him. Completely distracted, going over his short list of things to do, it took him the time to cross half the length of the room to realize it was already illuminated with a light he had not cast.

"You know, I was just beginning to wonder if you were going to come to me or if I was going to have to come to you."

Paxman spun around, wand drawn, to find Parker Gale sitting in his chair, the picture of relaxed confidence.

Parker tipped his head to the side. "As much fun as it would have been to hunt you down, this is so much easier, don't you agree?"

"What are you doing in here?" Paxman's eyes flitted anxiously around the room, trying for inconspicuous as he took inventory. Nothing appeared to be out of place, but now was not the time to relax.

He returned his focus to Parker, squaring his shoulders. "Leave my office at once." He jabbed his finger adamantly towards the door. "You have no right to be here."

Parker leaned back in the seat, lifting one leg to cross his ankle over the opposite knee, a lazy smile on his lips. "Hmm…" his grin grew wider. "I would think you would be at least slightly interested in what I have to say." He folded his fingers together behind his neck, propping his head up. "Aren't you the least bit curious as to why I'm here?"

Paxman's face hardened. "No."

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. You see, something has been bothering me for the past few days." He used his foot on the floor to lightly rock the chair. "I've been racking my brains trying to figure out how it was exactly that Carbonell and Melantha Javed knew how to find an illegal portkey. What possessed them to seek help in the _Ministry _of all places? They have no known connections. No friends or former colleges… And then I thought, but wait…they've spent quite a few days here at the Ministry as of late." Parker let the chair snap back into its upright position. "Haven't they, Paxman?"

Paxman's fingers curled tighter around the wand. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

Parker looked at the wand pointedly. "I think you know exactly what I'm suggesting."

"Any one of thousands of people could have given them Wells' name."

"Huh?" Parker arched a brow. "Odd. I never said Wells was the one who sold it to them."

Without stopping to think Paxman pulled back his wand to fire a spell, but before he could bring it forward, the length of wood was flying out of his hand and into Parker's open palm. Paxman watched, mouth gaping, as Parker flicked his wand again and the door sealed itself. "You've stretched yourself a little thin Paxman. Gotten a little sloppy. Do you want to know what I found?" He leaned to his side, revealing a stack of files wedged between his thigh and the armrest. He leaned a little further so he could pull the papers free. Keeping the wand trained on Paxman he plopped the stack on his thigh and flipped open the first file. "Would you look at this." He glanced up at Paxman through lowered eyes. "Extortion?" He tisked his tongue as he closed the file and tossed it and a few others on the desk. He picked up the next few files. "Altering legal documents." He tossed them on the desk without looking at them. "Selling secure Ministry information." They joined the others as well. "And what's this." He held up a few stray folders. "Hermione Granger's missing case files?" He tisked again. "We have been naughty, haven't we?"

Paxman sneered at the files in Parker's hand. "Your case will never hold up in court."

Parker tossed the last of the files on the desk with the others. "How's that?" He stood slowly and moved to walk around the side of the desk.

"I'm surprised at you, Gale." Paxman said mockingly. "I would have thought even you would know you need a warrant to se…"

"Oh," Parker said cutting him off. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of parchment. "You mean one of these?" He waved it back and forth tauntingly before slapping it against his hand. "I've already got one. Like you I've got friends in all different branches of the Ministry. Only mine help me keep things nice and legal."

The two men stared at each other, Paxman scrambling his brain for a means of escape, Parker watching for the futile attempt. When it came, Parker had him face down on the floor, hands spelled behind his back, before he could take two steps.

Parker tisked again as he took the few steps that separated them. He hunkered down near his head, elbows braced on his knees, wands suspended between both hands. "I'll never understand why you all try and run. You have to know you're not going to get very far. But still…every time. Why?" He tipped his head to the side, waiting for as answer. "What? No response?"

Paxman thrashed, trying to get free.

"Nothing to say for yourself?"

"What would you have me say?" Paxman bit out. He turned his head to glare up at Parker. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Parker used his wand to roll him over. "We both know you're not." He stuffed his wand in his pocket before he physically hefted Paxman off the floor and shoved him in an empty chair. He rubbed his hands on his robes as he stepped back, all traces of banter gone. His face contorted with disgust as he looked down at the man, head shaking slightly from side to side. "I always knew you were a mean bastard, but I wouldn't have pegged you for a criminal."

Paxman opened his mouth to answer but remembered himself in time and snapped it shut.

Control beginning to waver Parker swooped down until he was on level with Paxman, hands braced on the arms of the chair. "Do you have any idea," he seethed, "how many lives you've destroyed? How much damage you've caused? And for what? Money?" He spit the word out. "I'm sure the Weasleys and the Grangers and the Begleys and the Grosvenors and the Penns and how many countless others will find comfort in that."

"If you're going to arrest me, then get on with it." Paxman stared hollowly ahead. "Otherwise, shut it. I'm not interested in hearing how horrible of a person I am."

Parker's fingers tightened for a moment on the arms of the chair. He took several calming breaths before he straightened to his full height. "If you like." Parker hauled him to his feet and pushed him towards the door. "Might I suggest," he leaned in, so his face was next to Paxman's, hand gripping tight to the back of his robes, "you take one final look around? I expect this is the last room you're going to see on the outside for a long while."

* * *

Bored. That's what she was. Bored, plain and simple. She looked up at the nice lady in uniform sitting next to her. It wouldn't be so bad if the lady would let her read to herself. But for a reason Hermione did not understand, she insisted on reading Hermione's book aloud.

Hermione scrunched up her nose. The story would go much faster and be much more fun if she could only read for herself. It was her book after all. But the woman was determined and so Hermione said nothing.

Sighing heavily, she pulled her legs up onto the hard plastic seat and crossed them beneath her. She leaned forward, putting one elbow on each knee, holding her chin up with both of her fisted hands.

After several more minutes of the book not getting any more interesting, Hermione turned her head to look up at the woman again. All of her attention was focused on the story and reading it in her most pleasant voice. Satisfied that she was being properly ignored, Hermione slid off the seat and landed lightly on the tiled floor. Without looking back to see if she was caught, Hermione scampered to the door her parents had gone through.

She was small, her muscles weak, so it took a lot of effort on her part to pull the door open. When she had managed enough room she released the handle and slipped through the gap before the door swung closed.

The door shut silently, leaving her presences unnoticed by the adults, giving her time to take in the unfamiliar room. She had never been to a hospital before and so did not recognize the room for what it was. Some of the things here were like at her parents work, but not the same. They didn't have beds where they worked.

Feeling bold she took a few more steps. Her mother's back was to her. She was standing behind her father, her hands on his shoulders. Her father sat on the side of the bed, holding the hand of the person lying in it. Loud wet coughs filled the room.

Curious, Hermione turned to see who was in the bed. Her eyes widened when she recognized Grandpapa. The old man sat up, leaning over a basin, coughing, something dark as liquid chocolate coming out of his mouth.

Hermione's breath quickened. "Grandpapa?"

"Hermione!" Her mother spun around. She came at her, arms open, ready to scoop her up.

"Grandpapa!" Panic rising, Hermione darted around her mother and to the bed. More of the dark liquid was coming out of his mouth.

"Helen," Her father snapped, holding Hermione back with a hand, stopping her from climbing on the bed. "Get her out of here."

"Come on sweetheart." Her mother's arms were around her, lifting her up.

"Grandpapa." Hermione cried, reaching frantically over her mother's shoulders for the old man she loved. "Grandpapa!" She screamed as the door closed, cutting off the vision of him puking more dark red blood into the metal basin.

There was an explosion somewhere over head. She screamed as she threw herself to the side. Heavy stone tumbled down around her, the heavier pieces miraculously missing her, the smaller bits pelting her painfully on her back and neck. There was a sickening thud to her side, followed by the heavy thump of a body hitting the ground. She looked over to see the cold empty eyes of Michael Corner looking at her, one half of his head collapsed and bleeding where the bit of castle wall had hit him.

Tears ran down her face. Hot, humiliated tears. Tears of despair. How could she have been so stupid as to think things would be different here? It wasn't. She still didn't have any friends. Everyone hated her. Everyone avoided her.

Hermione Granger, the teacher's pet. Hermione Granger, the know it all. Hermione Granger, the girl who would never have any friends.

A sob chocked her as she hurried on, desperate to find somewhere where she could be along and cry.

She couldn't understand. All she had done was _try_ and help a classmate with his work. Didn't he want to know how to perform magic correctly? Didn't he want to succeed? There was no possible way he was going to, whipping his wand about like that; pronouncing the words wrong. Magical spells were very precise after all. Didn't he know that?

Sniffing heavily she whipped at her cheeks with the scratchy sleeve of her school robe. Maybe Ron Weasley was right. Maybe she was a nightmare. Maybe she would never fit in. Never have any friends. Hermione sobbed harder as she pushed open the door to the girl's toilet and ran inside.

She couldn't find them. "Harry!" Her head flew from side to side. "Ron!" She couldn't find a single person she cared for in the crowd of fighting people. A spell whipped past her ear, slicing off a chunk of her hair with its heat. She turned and threw a spell back, hitting the Death Eater in the face. The spell threw the man back, putting him in the way of a powerful slicing spell. His upper half fell to the ground a good distance away from his lower.

Hermione watched in horror, unable to move, unable to do anything to stop it, as a massive white arm as hard as granite came down on Ron's head. She was screaming before she realized she'd opened her lips. Ron lay crumpled on the floor, his body limp and unmoving. He was dead, she knew it. He couldn't be so still and not be dead. She wanted to scream at the queen. Blow her up with her wand. Stop her from dragging Ron away. Her eyes never left Ron as somewhere to the side of her Harry moved. She heard the metallic ring of the king's crown as it landed on Harry's feet. She looked back at Ron as she and Harry raced ahead. She tried to remain logical. She knew Ron couldn't be dead, McGonagall would never transfigure pieces that would actually kill someone…would she?

She went down, her ankle giving on the unexpected softness beneath her. Her hand landed in something hot and slick.

Unthinking she lifted her hand to eye level.

Her stomach lurched.

Red, hot blood covered her hand, running in tiny rivers past her wrist and down her arm.

Fighting back the bile at the same time trying not to scream, she scrambled away, scraping up her hands and knees in her hurry. Finally she made her feet and ran, not looking back. She didn't want to know who it was. Terrified it was someone she knew.

She was on her feet screaming, her voice hoarse from exertion. Harry was close. He and Cedric were neck and neck. They had stopped running. The roar dulled for a minute. No one knew why the two had stopped running. It didn't take long for Hermione to understand. They were arguing over who would be the champion. She rolled her eyes. How like Harry. Honorable to a fault. The two boys were standing near the cup now, readying to touch it at the same time. Realizing what she had the crowd began to grumble. But this was good. Harry and Cerdic would share the victory. It would still be a Hogwarts win. It simply wouldn't belong to any one house.

Hermione screamed her approval as the two boys took hold of the cup. There was a moment where nothing happened…and then they were gone. The crowd went deadly quiet. No one understood what was happening? Was this a part of the task. Had they started over because only one win was allowed?

Like the rest of the crowd, Hermione look around. That's when she saw the teachers. The varying looks of confusion and worry told her everything.

Ignoring the way her heart momentarily stopped, she pushed her way to the end of the isle. Ron must have seen what she had because he was there right behind her, following her.

She didn't get very far. The other students were trying to move forward to get a better look as well.

"Let me through!" Hermione pushed against the crowd, trying to force her way between strong shoulders. "Get out of my way!" She didn't know what she was going to do if she did manage to reach the pitch, but she had to do something. Harry was missing. Her mind raced with possibilities. Thousands of horrible scenarios flashing through her mind in a matter of seconds. One thing was abundantly clear though, someone had gotten their hands on Harry and there was no way for any of them to find him.

There was a momentary separating of bodies, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of flaming red hair.

Heart picking up a notch she fought her way through, desperate to get to Ron.

Her wand work was quick, precise. She was throwing hexes and curses now, something a younger, more naive Hermione thought she would never be able to bring herself to do. But if it was them or her, or them or Ron, or them or Harry…well she wouldn't hesitate.

She couldn't get past this one. He seemed to realize she wouldn't do anything deadly if she could help it and was taking advantage of the knowledge.

She hesitated for a moment, and cast a slicing hex. She turned away, not needing to see to know the hex had done its job. She felt another lurch in her stomach. She fought it back down. The decision was getting easier for her. The realization sickened her as much as the deed.

Hermione didn't feel like celebrating. It was a hollow victory. How could she celebrate when everything was so wrong? How could Harry play them like that? And how could Ron believe she didn't have faith in him? After all these years? All they'd been through? But really, how was she to know that everything had gone right out of sheer dumb luck and not Harry's bottle of Felix Felicious.

Hermione sighed as another elbow jabbed her in her side. She rubbed at it angrily as she tried to move towards a less crowded spot. The truth was though, that Ron had been angry with her long before today. And why? No one could be bothered to tell her. Well she'd had enough.

She squared her shoulders and threw her head back. She would go and find Ron, drag him away from his adoring fans, find a secluded spot, and demand to know what exactly she had done. And she would not let him leave until he gave her a proper answer.

Decision made, Hermione began weaving her way through the crowd, using all her might to muscle aside her fellow Gryffindors. Ron shouldn't be too difficult to find. Not only did he have flaming red hair, but he stood a head taller than most everyone else.

As if finally sensing her need to pass, the crowd separated momentarily in front of her. That split second the crowd had parted was all it took for her heart to come to a screaming halt in her chest. When it started beating again it felt like something tight was gripping it, forcing it to beat faster while trying to stop it beating all together.

She stood rooted, unable to move. She closed her eyes, as if doing so could erase the image. But she could still see it, them, over and over again like a video in her head. The crowd pressed in around her, elbows jabbing painfully into her back and sides, adding insult to her humiliation.

Feeling the prickle of tears gathering in her eyes, she spun around, trying to force her way back the way she had come. She needed to get out of here. Now. Before anyone saw her.

How dare he? She slammed into the back of the portrait guarding the common room. How dare he do this to her? After all these years of tension and fighting and flirting? After she had finally managed to summon up enough courage and risked everything to ask him to accompany her to Slughorn's party? To which he agreed! And now…now he goes off and kisses Lavender-Bloody-Brown. In front of all of Gryffindor.

She slammed through another door into an empty class room.

Clearly she had read the situation all wrong. Clearly she had misinterpreted all the signs. Clearly Ron didn't want someone like her.

Hermione closed her eyes, straining away from the wand at her throat. She could feel the hot breath against her throat, the putrid smell of unkempt male filled her nose. His hand latched onto her breast painfully, twisting. She bit back a scream.

"Go on filth." He growled biting at her neck as he twisted again. "Scream. No one will hear you."

She flailed her body desperately. Not like this. Please God, not like this.

His hand left her breast, a momentary, blessed relief. He gripped the tops of her robes and pulled. The fabric gave, revealing her upper body to his eyes.

He nipped painfully at her ear. "Beg."

Hermione couldn't look at him. He was still sitting in the bed; blanket pulled up to his waist, hair disheveled, a blatant and tempting reminder of what they had done.

"Ron," Her voice cracked. Her throat felt rough and abused. She licked her painfully dry lips, wincing. If she looked in a mirror she was certain she would see blatant evidence of their night together. "Say something." She croaked.

He was quite for a minute longer, the silence grating excruciatingly on her nerves.

"I…" She hazard a glance towards him. His face was blank, void of any discernable emotion. "What do you want me to say?" There was another long pause. He looked up at her, his eyes seeming to search her face for something. "You've said enough for the both of us."

Hermione clutched the blanket tighter to her chest. This was killing her. She wanted to run across the room and throw herself at Ron. She wanted to tell him how she felt. Desperately. She wanted him to want her. She wanted to beg him to open his eyes and see her. Really see her. To let her prove that she was what he wanted. To see her as someone just as beautiful as Lavender or Fleur. To see her as someone he could love.

But she couldn't do that. Ron was too honorable. She wouldn't trap him. She wouldn't make him feel guilty…she wouldn't… "Th-then it's decided." Her voice was stronger than it had any right to be. She turned her body so she wasn't looking at him. "We'll pretend like this never happened."

There was a long, excruciatingly awkward pause. "Right." His voice was even and cold.

She took an unsteady breath. "So we agree. It was a mistake. Easily forgotten." She had to swallow. "We can go back to being friends and it'll be like none of this ever happened."

There was no response, only the rustling of fabric behind her and the groan of the bed being relieved of its weight. When she turned around Ron was already gone, leaving behind most of his clothing and a tousled bed.

It was over. The most of the fighting had ended some time ago now. There was still the odd dual. Death Eaters who refused to give in even now.

Hermione looked around, cold inside. So many lives gone. So many friends, lost forever.

Bodies, so many of them, lay around her. Bloody. Brocken. Dismembered.

She remembered seeing the pictures of the battlefields from the Great War in her history books before coming to Hogwarts. She thought she was prepared to see it in real life.

She wasn't.

She closed her eyes to block out the sight. She felt alone, utterly alone in the sea of dead bodies. How would they ever recover from this?

It was almost painful for her not to react. Ron glared at her, mouth pressed tight, a cold gleam in his eyes. Her every instinct screamed at her to stop him. To throw herself at him, beg him to forgive her, and confess what she had done.

But she couldn't. It was too dangerous. For the both of them now.

"Fred." He said when the door still hadn't opened. "He warned me this was going to happen. I didn't want to believe him, but…" He turned, giving her his back.

Hermione swallowed, struggling to force down the lump in her throat. She needed to sound normal or this would all fall apart. "Fred has always had an uncanny ability to _know_ more then he should and not _realize_ it. I suppose it comes from his resourcefulness."

"Well, bully for Fred." Ron growled nastily.

Hermione shook her head, silently reminding herself to stay strong. "Don't take this out on him." She warned. He _needed_ to talk to Fred. It was vital to her plan. If he didn't…

"Don't tell me what to do." A wand tapped on the door, warning Hermione that in a moment Ron would be gone. Something inside her warned that if he left with things the way they were he would be gone forever. The latch shifted. Her heart stopped. Ron turned to give her one more disdainful glare. She could feel the hate pouring off him like ice. "Enjoy your stay." He left, back rammed straight, shoulders squared.

He was gone. The door slammed, and he was gone. She'd lost her chance. He hadn't seen…

He wouldn't be coming back.

Not now.

Not ever. Which was what she wan…what she needed.

Hermione screwed up her eyes, forcing the tears back into her head. It wasn't over yet. She couldn't let them see her cry. She couldn't show any emotion. She couldn't allow them to see how much this was killing her inside. Or all that she had done, all that she had said and caused and fought for…would be for not.

But was it worth it? Was the sacrifice worth losing Ron? He hated her so much? She could feel it. Like the lingering effects of a curse.

Hermione curled into a tighter ball, the images in her head starting themselves over. The blood pouring from her Grandpapa's mouth. Harry disappearing. Ron leaving her. The final battle. Screams of pain filled her head. It took her minutes, hours, to realize they were coming from her mouth as well.

She curled into a tighter protective ball. She could feel herself coming back. Her senses were picking up on the world of despair that surrounded her; leaving the blackness behind her and allowing her her most painful memories. She shivered against the cold stone floor beneath her. The chill seeping off the high damp walls penetrated to the bone. And with that awareness came the certainty, the agony, that she had ruined everything.

Ron wasn't coming for her. It didn't matter how many times she called for him. He wasn't coming. And she didn't blame him. She wouldn't come either. Not after the things she had said.

It was as she'd wanted.

She sucked in a deep breath. The air caught in her throat, chocking her. The pain forcing her to cough the more. "Ron." She couldn't help but gasp his name.

"How very pathetic."

Hermione fought to control the hacking coughs.

Jillian Oldham tisked her tongue disdainfully. "Calling for a man to save you?" There was a trace of amusement in her voice. "Before our little venture together I never would have imagined you the type."

Hermione squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to block out the voice along with the face.

"Of course, you could always save yourself."

Hermione relaxed her eyes enough to see through the lashes. As she feared, Jillian Oldham sat in a conjured chair in the middle of her cell, her reptilian Patronus curled tight around her neck.

"That is more your style. Isn't it? Relying on yourself and no one else? And yet," she bounced her foot playfully, "here you are, putting your faith in a man who cares nothing for you. Waiting for him to come to your rescue. This is a happy day, isn't it?"

Hermione tucked her face into her chest, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Not very talkative today, are we? Well," she amended, "Not now the Dementors have gone. Not that we have much of anything to say anymore, do we. Just incoherent ramblings and pathetic calls for a man who'll never come."

"If all you've come to do," Hermione rasped, her throat coarse and dry from strain, "is torment…rest assured…you've done. You can go…leave me be."

Jillian scowled unattractively at Hermione. "I'm the one in control here, Granger. Remember that."

"As if you…ever…me forget."

Jillian sat back in her chair, satisfied. Spinning her wand lazily between her fingers. "I wanted to update you on our investigation. I thought you'd be interested."

Hermione swallowed painfully. "Why…why would you think…?" Her voice was stronger, but still cracked with strain.

"Well to be honest," Jillian leaned forward. "I didn't really. I just thought it would be lucrative to give you more to obsess about while you're in here."

Hermione said nothing but waited silently for Jillian to continue.

"I've decided," she said cheerfully, as if they were two friends sharing a confidence, "that my team needs to monitor your friend Harry a little more closely."

Hermione felt her heart stutter in her chest, dropping a beat, before it picked up again. "Why?"

"Because," Jillian flicked her hair over her shoulder flippantly. "We have reason to believe he's involved in this kidnapping."

A harsh, gravely laugh escaped Hermione's lips. "You…must…be joking." She waited vainly for a response. She swallowed again, trying to force moisture down her throat. "Harry was with the…the Weasleys the night…Blake disa…disappeared."

"We have reason to believe he helped in the kidnapping…"

"You're mad." Hermione croaked.

"Or that he knows where she is now and is hiding her location from the Ministry."

"That's…ridiculous." Hermione tried to force a note of absurdity into her voice.

"Is it?" Jillian leaned forward. "It's very suspicious, don't you think, for _Captain_ Potter to have gone missing for a week with no one more the ware of his whereabouts. It's a very peculiar thing, don't you think, to disappear so thoroughly when one of your closest friends is falling apart and the other is imprisoned? It doesn't take a genius, such as yourself," she said snidely, "to hazard an accurate guess as to where he was and what he was doing."

Jillian stood and began pacing.

"As far as I can tell one of two things has happened. Either he's known where the child was all along and went to check on her, or he's finally put together the clues you were…Why are you laughing?" Jillian spun abruptly to look down at Hermione.

Hermione struggled to stop the brittle snorts. "You're a fool," she managed to choke, "if you think for one moment…Harry would hide Blake…from Ron if he found her."

"Are you trying to tell me he hasn't spent the last week searching for the Blythe child?"

"I wouldn't presume…to try and tell you anything." Hermione winced at the pain in her throat. "But I hope he is…looking for her. Clearly," she glanced up at the other woman, "you are not up for the job." She broke down again into hacking coughs.

Jillian's nostrils flared. She stomped forward until her toes were inches away from Hermione's face. "You and Potter both think you're so smart. That no one could possibly figure out what it is you're doing. But I'm on to you. I know Harry took one of those Muggle flying brooms to Spain. It won't take long to get confirmation of the fact.

Joy washed over Hermione in crushing waves. Harry'd figured it out. He had to 've. He'd figured out what she had been trying to tell them. She glanced up at Jillian. And the Auror knew it. She was on to them. She was on to them and if she wasn't careful it she wouldn't be the only one in Azkaban's cells. Harry and Beila would join her as well. She couldn't let them take the fall for her.

Desperately she searched for an answer. For some reasonable explanation as to why Harry had been in Spain, but she could think of none. Her brain was working to slowly, her thoughts muddled from the Dementors.

She wet her lips, tasting blood where they had cracked. "You think Harry went to Spain to find Blake?" She turned onto her back so she wouldn't have to struggle looking up at Jillian looming over her. "How would I have gotten her there? There wasn't time… Not by plane. There would be record if I took Portkey... All International Portkeys are registered…How would I have done it? How would I get to Spain and back before you came for me in my office?"

"You had somebody else transport her."

Hermione laughed derisively. "And who would I have trusted? One of the Weasleys?"

"You know Granger," Jillian crossed her arms over her breast, "this is sounding an awful lot like a confession."

Hermione laughed manically. Now? After all this time fighting, she would get her way now? It didn't seem right. "I don't care." She closed her eyes as she turned back onto her side. "I don't care anymore." She was startled to realize it was the truth. She didn't care anymore. Not about her. It wasn't about her.

She closed her eyes and a tear escaped, sliding down her face. She cried more for the fact. She hadn't known she was able to cry anymore. "Nothing matters."

"Everything matters." Jillian snapped, bending over the sobbing woman. "A child is missing."

"And you've got what you wanted." Hermione wept. "You've got your confession. I'm in prison. Harry and Ron are both suffering. What more do you want?"

Jillian glared at Hermione for a long, tense moment. "I want to bring that child home." Biting her lip she turned her head slightly. "No child should ever be taken from their family. Under any circumstances."

Hermione turned her head, just enough so she could see the other woman's face. For the first time in their acquaintance Hermione saw something akin to sincerity in the woman's eyes. "I agree completely."

Jillian's eyes hardened again as she turned back to Hermione. "Then help me bring her home. Tell me where you put her."

Hermione stared back at her a moment before turning away. "No." She licked at her lips again, wincing at the stinging pain. "Not so long as... Not until I know it's safe."

"Safe?" Jillian latched onto the word. "Safe from what?"

Hermione shook her head.

"From who then?" She tilted Hermione's face up. "The Javeds?"

The sharpening of Hermione's chin was all the confirmation she needed.

There was a long pause as Jillian thought. She dropped Hermione's chin, rose to her full height, and took several steps in one direction before turning and walking back. "Is…" she straightened her robes uncomfortably, tugging almost violently at the cuffs of her sleeves. "Is the child safe?"

Hermione's response was slow in coming. "I would never hurt her." She caught Jillian's eyes. "Ever. I love her."

Another pause. "What if I were to tell you the Javeds were already in custody?"

Hermione turned away. "I wouldn't believe you."

Jillian shook her head, exasperated. "I don't understand you, Granger. Why do you confess now? You've been nothing but a pain in my arse…" Her eyes narrowed into slits. "Is it because I'm on to something?"

"No." Hermione shook her head, body curling back into a tight ball. "You'd be wasting your time if you went looking outside the country."

"Then why?"

Hermione shrugged indifferently. "You're never going to let me out of here. There's no one waiting for me on the outside. You're never going to find her anyway." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Take your pick."

Jillian crouched down so she was closer to Hermione's level. "Yes. I will. With this confession, I'll have you under Veritaserum in no time."

"That will never hold up…"

"So long as I find that child, it won't matter where I get my information."

When Hermione didn't respond but continued to stare distantly ahead, Jillian pushed back to her feet. She stared down at Hermione for a moment longer before she turned and marched from the room. She used her wand to fling open the door and slam it closed behind her.

Hermione listened to the lock grate as it slid into place. She closed her eyes with the last clunk. It was a sound she had grown very use to. So was the sound of feet walking away, down the corridor, away from her. It wouldn't be long now and the Dementors would be back.

Hermione closed her eyes and curled her body tighter to protect against the cold she knew was coming. Any moment, when the Dementros realized Oldham's Patronus was no longer protecting her, they would come. They would come and she would lose herself. She didn't want to go there again. Panic rose in her chest.

It was suddenly hard to breath. Her panic was chocking her. Terrifying her. She couldn't go back there. Worse than the dreams was the emptiness. The realization that she had lost hours, days of her life. There was no way to tell how much time she had spent in the blackness. The emptiness that she succumbed to eventually. The meaninglessness where she no longer existed.

Startled, Hermione cried out when a nose as warm and comforting as sun light nudged her shoulder. She turned over to find the familiar tongue of the Great Dane Patronus dangling right above her face.

She reached for him, wanting to draw in the golden protection that he offered. It was hard to remember now, when he was comforting her, why she had asked that the dog be kept away. But she remembered. She remembered how much worse it would be when the dog was taken from her again.

Mustering all the will she had left in her she turned her hand and used it to nudge the dog away while turning back onto her side. Away from him, struggling to resist his addictive comfort.

"I thought I asked you to stay away."

The lock shifted again. Hinges screamed in protest as the door was forced open again. Hermione listened to the soft fall of feet as they moved into her cell.

Thomas came to a stop several paces away. His stomach clenched at the sight of her. She was looking worse. Her hair was dull, the ends harsh and bridle. Her skin looked pasty and lose, and her robes were beginning to hang off her.

He felt bile rise in his throat. It was unbearable to see one of his heroes reduced to this. It was an outrage. It was…it was…he couldn't find the words to describe it. No one should see their hero reduced to this. It was worse by far then realizing your hero wasn't who you thought they were.

He turned his face away from the sight of her and his eyes landed on the untouched tray of food sitting just inside the door.

"You haven't been eating."

The silver dog moved closer and Hermione strained away. "I'm not hungry."

"Hermione," Thomas picked up the tray and brought it to her. "You have to eat something." He sat on the ground beside her, the tray across his lap. He took up the bread and tore a small chunk from the end. "Have a bite." He held it out to her. "Please."

Hermione quickly looked away from the offered food, stomach churning. "No thank you."

"Hermione," he said firmly. "You have to keep up your strength."

"For what purpose?" She whispered furtively. "I'm never getting out of here."

Thomas dropped the bread. It landed with a dull thunk on the tray. "That's not true." His voice was a little higher as he reached for her. She pulled away. He looked at his empty hand and then at her. "You have friends…" he began.

"…who are leaving me here to rot." She finished for him. True Harry had gone to Spain to look for Blake, but where was he now? He hadn't come to see her in…well, time had no meaning in a place like this. But he hadn't done anything to help her directly. She was still here. She was still losing her mind. Once again Harry had chosen Ron over her.

But what did she expect. It had always been that way and would always be that way.

"No." He brushed the crumbs from her hands before setting the tray aside. "Friends who've arranged for you to be removed to a different cell."

For an endless moment Hermione didn't react. Finally she moved, turning her face towards him. "Moved?"

Thomas nodded, an encouraging smile on his face. "I got a personal message from Minister Shakelbolt late last night. He's ordered me to move you to the lowest security ward." The hope that had risen instantly inside of her plummeted. It hadn't been Harry or Ron after all. It had been Kingsley Shaklebolt. "I would have moved you straight off this morning but I knew Oldham was scheduled to come and see you today and I thought it best for the both of us if you were where she expected you to be."

Hermione forced herself not to longer on her disappointment. Instead she tried to focus on what the guard was saying. "You're moving me?" It was hard to get the words out her jaw was trembling so hard.

His smile returned. "Yes, Ms Granger, I am."

Within seconds Hermione's eyes were shimmering. "This isn't…" she had to swallow in order to continue, uncertainty lingering. "This isn't some sick joke…"

"No." He reached for her hand again. He held it comfortingly between both of his hands. "Someone's preparing your cell as we speak."

Hermione chocked back a sob of relief. "No more Dementors?"

Some of the happiness faded from his eyes. "Less." He spoke tentatively. "Far less." He looked away from her as his hand tightened around her fingers. "There isn't a cell in the prison that isn't patrolled by Dementors. But were moving you to the lowest security level." He assured her when her face fell. "One Dementor on patrol. That's nothing compared to…to now."

Hermione was silent for several long minutes. Thomas stared at her intently, trying to discern what exactly was going on in her head. He winced himself when she absently mindedly caught her bottom lip between her teeth, abusing the dry flesh unintentionally, causing it to crack further and bleed.

Parker pulled his wand, tilted her face towards him, and tapped the tip against her lip.

"I don't think…" she began but paused when a warm tingly sensation shot through her lips. "That it would be any easier." She finished when the sensation ended. Her tongue darted out to test the wound.

"What wouldn't?" He held her face a moment longer before he released it, placing it gently back on the floor. He stuffed his wand back in his pocket.

"One Dementor. In fact," She wrapped her arms around herself again. "I think it would be worse." She tucked into herself. "Perhaps you should just…"

"If you say leave you here…" he held his finger threateningly towards her. "You're going to that cell if I have to carry you myself."

A flicker of Hermione's former defiance flashed across her eyes. Her jaw set firmly. "Then that's what you're going to have to do."

"Fine."

Cursing Granger and her stubbornness, Thomas climbed to his feet. Without warning he bent down and scooped her up.

Hermione squealed at the sudden lurch. "What are you… Put me down."

Thomas ignored her, shifting her in his arms until he held her securely. He turned and strode from the cell, the Great Dane trotting happily at his side.

Hermione struggled feebly, "Bring me back to my cell." She gripped uselessly at his arm. "What are you doing?"

"What I should have done long ago."

"Bring me back." Hermione continued to fight, digging her nails into his arm.

"Damn it." Thomas stopped walking to look down at her. "Would you listen to yourself?" He barked harshly. "Do you even know what you're asking me to do? You're asking me to bring you back to the Dementors. Think about that Hermione. You're asking me to let them destroy what little of you is left. I won't let that happen. I can't."

"It's not your choice!"

Thomas ignored her outburst and resumed walking. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Ms Granger, but it's not yours either."

Somewhere deep inside her defiance began to rile, demanding she fight back and argue the point, but the truth of the words immediately squelched the instinct. He of course was right. Where she went and what she wanted no longer mattered. What she did was no longer her decision. She had bartered all her rights and privileges for Ron, to keep the promised she had made him.

Hermione's heart clenched at the thought of Ron, the picture in her head instantly going to the way she had last seen him. She could see the hate in his eyes and it made her shutter. She tried to force the image away, to replace it with one of happier times, but it kept coming back to the last. Watching his face morph in her mind's eye from one of love and devotion to one of loathing made her wither inside. And still she tried to force it to stay, wanting to believe he would look at her like that again someday. But it became harder and harder until she stopped trying all together. She had better get use to the idea. Ron wasn't coming back to her…ever. It was a direct result of the plan… Something she had implemented, knowing this could be a possible result. She thought she had prepared herself, gone in with eyes wide open. She had been a fool. She hadn't expected the reality to hurt this much.

She turned her face into the guard's chest and let lose the flood of tears she'd been holding. She should have known she couldn't survive like this. Without him. Not after she'd finally had him.

"Here we are." Thomas said, pushing open the door to her new cell with his foot. "Everything will be just fine." He said soothingly, moving towards the bed. "It won't be long now and this will all be a bad memory."

He lowered her gently from his arms, placing her carefully on the bed, terrified at how small and frail she felt in his arms.

Hermione instantly curled onto her side, simultaneously moving away from him. She buried her face in the clean linen. It was rough and scratchy under her cheek. The cell was just as damp and cold as the last.

"Is there anything else I can…"

"Just go." She cut him off. "Just leave me be."

Thomas watched her for a minute longer. Sighed. And left.

Finally alone, Hermione gave in to the full force of her tears. It didn't matter what the guard believed. This, being aware of everything. Conscious of what she had all lost. Knowing her friends and family were in trouble and she was helpless to help them… Knowing it was her fault, was worse. Much worse.

* * *

Kingsley Shaklebolt leaned back in his chair, one ankle crossed over the other knee and sighed. He should be annoyed. Be should be angry and disappointed, and a whole host of other things, but he wasn't. He sank further into his seat. He had set aside a few hours for this meeting so had no where pressing to be. It was nice, for once, to have nothing to do and nowhere to be. He didn't get to relax nearly enough anymore.

Shaking back the cuff of his shirt he checked the time. Ten minutes late. He couldn't help but be surprised. It wasn't like Harry to be late. They were both extremely busy men and so understood the worth of time. Neither of them liked to keep people waiting if at all possible. He checked his watch once more before glancing toward the door. Harry still hadn't appeared. Whatever was keeping Harry it had to be very important.

Turning his head he motioned the server over and ordered a refill of his tea. By the time the young lady moved away Harry was weaving his way through the crowded café towards the small table.

"Minister," he said holding out his hand. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. I had an errand I needed to make and it took me longer than I expected."

"That's alright Harry," Kingsley took his hand as he waved off the apology. "It was nice to have a minute to sit and relax without having one of my assistants hounding me to get something done. Why don't you take a seat, Harry? Relax a minute yourself."

"Thank you Minister." Harry pulled out the chair and sat quickly. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I…"

Kingsley held a hand up to quiet him. "Will think nothing of it. It's the least I can do." The server was back with his tea. "Would you like something?"

Harry looked to the young woman. "No thank you. I really haven't the time."

Kingsley reached for the milk pitcher and added a dollop to his tea before spooning in a mound of sugar. "So Harry," he stirred the tea slowly, waiting until the server was out of ear shot and he was certain they were alone. "What is it I can do for you?" he took a sip and nodded, satisfied with the balance of flavors. He leaned back in his seat, folding his hands over his stomach and noticing the added girth that was settling there. He made a mental note to do something about it as Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts. "You do have something to ask me, don't you?" He pressed when Harry still hadn't said anything. "I haven't misjudged the occasion have I?"

"Sir?" Harry met his gaze.

"Come now Harry," he leaned forward. "I might be Minister now, but I'm still an Auror." He used his eyes to pointedly look around before refocusing on Harry. "You asked to meet me in private," he began to tick off his list on his fingers, "you chose a Muggle café, you haven't time for a single cup of tea." He lowered his hand back onto the table. "I'm going to hazard a guess that this isn't a mere social call."

"No, sir." Harry lowered his head. "It's not."

Kingsley nodded. "Then let's not waste anymore of our time." He leaned forward, folding his arms and bracing them on the table. "What can I do for you?"

Harry took a breath. He shifted uncomfortably, obvious in his discomfort. "I need the trial of Carbonell and Melantha Javed moved forward."

Kingsley didn't even blink. "Would you mind telling me why?"

Harry arched a brow. "Haven't you been reading the Prophet?"

"No." Kingsley snorted with laughter. "I'm afraid I haven't the time for such luxuries. I have staff who read the papers for me and keep me abreast with what they think I need to know."

Harry's eyes bugged with shock. "Minister…" Harry stammered. "I really don't…"

"And then I read the stack of articles they don't want me to see." He leaned forward even further while lowering his voice. "Sent to me by a select group of "bird lovers" I worked closely with for quite a few years."

The look of relief was so pronounced on Harry's face that it made Kingsley laugh. "Come now Harry." He continued to laugh. "You don't really think I would be so lax in my responsibilities that I would let people with a political agenda dictate what I do and do not read?"

"Well, I didn't think so, but…"

"You can rest assured, Harry. I promise you I'm on top of things."

Harry nodded slightly. "That is a relief to hear."

"I'm sure it is. But why don't we talk about what brought you hear today, Harry. I'm assuming it's not my reading habits."

"No Sir," Harry admitted. "It's not."

"Well," Kingsley prompted when Harry didn't continue. "Out with it."

Harry twisted his hands together a moment in an anxious matter before releasing them, setting them firmly and pointedly against the table. "I want to make it clear. I'm coming to you as a last resort. I don't want it brandished about the Ministry that I'm…I'm…"

"Using your name to ask for favors."

Harry nodded.

"I don't think anyone things that of you, Harry."

"They might. I just don't know what else to do, Minister."

"This is about Ron, isn't it? Or Hermione? As I understand it they're both in desperate need of your help, aren't they?"

Harry's hand curled into a tight fist. He slammed it against the table with one solid thrust. "It's not fair." He pounded his fist again. "I was expected to save the entire wizarding world and I can't even save…"

"Your best friends." Kingsley pushed aside his half empty cup. "Life is rarely fair, is it?"

"I don't know what to do anymore. I've been trying to get Hermione released through the proper legal channels, but I'm being blacked at every avenue. Jillian Oldham has made a real mess of her paper work and no one seems to be able to make heads or tales of it. And as for Ron, I don't even know what he's going on with him. I haven't been able to reach him in days."

Kingsley's focus sharpened shrewdly on Harry. "That surprises me."

Harry rubbed wearily at his face. "From what I've been able to gather, he's looking for Blake. Of course. And I know that's what Parker and the rest of the Alphas are doing. But…"

"So Greene's finally allowed them to take over the investigation?"

The corner of Harry's lip twitched, a quirk halfway through amusement and disgust. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly?"

A bit more humor snuck onto Harry's face. "From what I've heard, mind you I wasn't there, Ron told Greene he wouldn't take any new assignments until Blake was found. If the Ministry wasn't going to make it top priority, he was. Of course Greene told Ron he'd do what he was told and Ron…"

"Told him to shove it." Kingsley offered.

Harry let himself smile, if only briefly. "Told him he'd quit. Said he'd walk right out of the Ministry and never come back. Not only that, he said he'd go to the Profit and offer them an exclusive, tell all, interview with him. Starting with the death of Blake's parents and how he was ordered to cover it up for as long as possible."

Kingsley's lips twitched at the corners. "As Minister of Magic, I am appalled by Ron's disregard for authority, let alone his lack of loyalty to the Ministry. As his friend… I would have loved to have seen Greene's face. He didn't take Ron's threat very well, did he?"

"No." Harry's eyes sparkled. "He's been storming around the Ministry for days."

"Well, good on Ron." Kingsley slapped his hand against the table, laughing heartily.

Harry smirked as a comical image of his superior spluttering and turning purple flashed in front of his eyes. It had always been a somewhat volatile relationship between Ron and Roland Greene. While at times their mentor mentee relationship seemed more like that between father and son, there were also times when their strong personalities and stubbornness had them butting heads. It had to be galling, Harry thought, for the older man to know that Ron was better at his job than Greene had been while he was Alpha Captain. And that it was only a matter of time before Ron was taking over his job, or perhaps, if things changed, being the one he answered to instead. Greene might be higher ranking, for the time being, but there was no doubt which of the two of them had more power.

"It's about time he did something about this." Harry blinked, coming back to the conversation. It took him a moment before he remembered what he and Kingsley had been talking about. "I've been wondering when he'd finally snap out of this mood he's been in."

The smile fell from Harry's lips. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, pushing his dark hair back out of his eyes.

Kingsley stopped laughing when he realized Harry was no longer laughing with him. "What is it?" He asked, sitting straighter.

Harry shook his head. "He's not snapped out of it. At least I don't think he has." He lifted his gaze to meet Kingsley's. "That's why I came to see you. I don't know what to do anymore. Ron's obsessed. Not that I blame him, but still. Fern, his secretary, informed me he's come into the office only a handful of times since his…confrontation, with Greene. Only long enough to file the necessary paperwork to try the Javed's. The rest of the time he's spent pushing himself, trying to find her. He hasn't been home in days. He doesn't answer letters. If he keeps this up he's going to kill himself or…he's going to find her." Harry's eyes drifted past the Minster. He bit at his bottom lip, gnawing it absently. "It's only a matter of time."

"I don't understand." Kingsley's brow furrowed. He held up a hand before him. "Don't you _want_ Blake to be found?"

"Of course I do." Harry snapped, straightening in his seat. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because that's how you made it sound."

"Well I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Then how did you mean it?"

"I only meant…"

"Yes?" Kingsley prompted.

"It's complicated."

Kingsley's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "I'm sure I'm more then capable of following."

Harry turned his head. "The Javeds retain legal custody of Blake. I've been working with Winifred Edgecomb to try and get the ruling overturned but with all this other crap that's swamping the Ministry right now. A custody hearing seems rather trifle compared to the murder convictions that are being retried. To be perfectly honest the judicial branch of the Ministry is in such turmoil and confusion right now I doubt most of the officials remember how to wipe their own arses.

"It feels just like it did right after the war. No one knows what to do with themselves and how to go on from where they are. We got complacent. And now that we all know everything wasn't fixed the first time, that there's still corruption in the Ministry, no one knows what to do. Meanwhile Ron and Blake are slipping through the cracks and the Javeds are getting off with what they did because no one seems to know what to do with them. If Blake were to be found and brought home who's to say she won't get lost in the system as well. Not to mention what it would do to Ron if he had to watch someone else walk off with his daughter."

Kingsley's mouth opened slightly as he tilted his head back. "Ahhh…I see." He nodded once as he folded his hands, pressing the clasped knuckles to his lips a moment as he thought. "Well, that sounds easy enough to take care of. I'll have it all squared away before he finds her. That shouldn't be too difficult. She already bears his name and we all know the Javeds should never have gained legal custody in the first place. I never would have believed it of Ceemist."

"Don't judge him too harshly." Harry said compassionately. "His wife's all he has left."

Kingsley's frown deepened, amending nothing. "It's a horrible this had to happen in the first place. That child is such a sweet little thing." He ran his thumb over the gold hoop that hung from his ear. He dropped his hand suddenly. "I want her found and returned to Ron as soon as possible."

Harry let out a low whistle. "Easier said than done."

"How's that?"

Harry shook his head with exasperation. "Ron's got this idea in his head that he doesn't want her anymore."

"Doesn't _want_ her?" Kingsley asked, clearly not comprehending.

Harry collapsed, his head landing in his hands. "It's the same story all over again. When Ron's been hurt he pushes away the thing that's hurt him. Instead of putting the blame on the Javeds and Amadeus where it belongs, he's pushing Blake away, convinced that if she's not a part of his life anymore she can't hurt him. It's the same thing that he did to Hermione five years ago." Harry lifted his head from his hand for just a moment. "And now."

"Harry," Kingsley held out a hand as if he could make Harry understand with the gesture. "I can't _make_ him take her back. Even if we find her…"

"We _will_ find her." Harry cut in confidently.

"Okay," Kingsley held up a hand like he needed to hold Harry back. "_When _we find her, it won't do any good if Ron has relinquished his rights."

"He hasn't."

"How do you know? You haven't been able to reach him."

"He hasn't." Harry repeated with more conviction.

"He could."

Harry shook his adamantly. "He won't."

"You can't know that."

Harry shook his head. "I know Ron."

"As well as you know Hermione?"

Harry stiffened in his seat. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Did you foresee her kidnapping that child?"

Harry's fingers curled into tight fists on the table top. "Hermione didn't kidnap anyone."

"Jillian Oldham seems to think she did. I've read the evidence, Harry. It's not in Hermione's favor."

"And so what if she did?" Harry slammed his hand down on the table. "Let's say Hermione did take the law into her own hands and kidnapped Blake. Are we really going to punish her for protecting that sweet, innocent little child from people like Melantha and Carboneel Javed? For Merlin's sake, they threatened to kill the Official's wife if he didn't grant them custody."

"Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Oh that's rich," Harry scowled, "coming from a man who broke how many laws in the fight against Voldmeort?"

"That's not the same…"

"The hell it isn't?" Harry's hand landed on the table with a loud smack. "It's always the right thing to protect the innocent. Melantha and Carbonell Javed are Death Eaters. Who knows what they would have done to her."

"And who knows what harm Hermione's actions have done Blake. She could be sick or…or dead. Hermione's been in custody for a month. She's obviously not caring for the child. So where did she stash her."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage that was warring inside him. "Hermione would never hurt her. She'd never hurt anyone." He bit through his teeth.

"Not intentionally, perhaps. But we can't know no harms come to her."

"She's fine."

"And how would you know?" Kingsley's eyes narrowed suspiciously on the younger man. "Are you keeping something from me, Harry?"

Harry stared at Kingsley coldly. "I've just come from the Hogwarts register." He rose to his feet. "That's why I was late. Blake's name is still down. Set to begin school in ten years."

Kingsley sat forward in his seat, grabbing Harry's wrist to keep him from walking away. "You know where she is?"

Harry gently pulled his arm free. "Her directions won't appear until it's time to send her her Hogwart's letter. So unless you intend to wait ten years to find her, you might want to explore different avenues."

Kingsley's face darkened with ill-humored. "There's no need for you to be angry with me Harry."

"I'm not angry." Harry looked down at the Minister. "I'm disappointed. Being Minister's changed you. You're not the man I thought you were. I came to you for help and you offer me lectures." Harry shook his head as he turned away. "I'll find someone else to help me."

"Harry!" Kingsley was on his feet, not caring that the Muggles were watching. "What more would you have me do?" He demanded. "I've already done what I can for Hermione and I'll do what I can for Ron. I'll press the courts to push ahead the Javed's court date. I'm not the bad guy here, Harry. I haven't done anything wrong. I want to help Ron and Hermione to, but there's only so much I can do."

Harry turned his face away, feeling the first wave of shame for his outburst.

"What more do you want?" Kingsley pressed when Harry said nothing.

Harry turned back to Kingsley. "I'm sorry, Minister. I just…I'm tired. I'm tired and I'm worried. I…" he bowed his head. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I'm sorry for implying…" Harry forced himself to face Kingsley. "You've been there for me, Kingsley. I'm sorry that I haven't thanked you before."

Kingsley crossed his arms over his chest. "Technically you haven't thanked me now."

There was a twinkle in the dark man's eyes and Harry knew he was forgiven his outburst. He ran his tongue over the front edge of his teeth as if tasting the flavor of the apology before he spoke it. "Thanks Kingsley. For everything."

Kingsley nodded. "I don't want to know what you know, Harry. I'm Minister now." He offered as explanation. "But I want you to be careful and get this all figured out. As it happens, my opinion on the matter is similar to most of the Wizarding Community. Most of us would like to let Hermione go with a slap to the wrist and a covert pat to the back. But unfortunately we are bound by the law. It's going to take a miracle to get her released, but I believe you can do it. As for Ron, I'll trust your opinion." He bowed his head slightly. "You, after all, know him much better than I do."

Harry lowered his head, nodding. His shame mounting. "Minister,"

"Kingsley." He threw some money down on the table before leading Harry towards the door.

"Kingsley," Harry amended. "Do you mind…you said you'd been helping Hermione…What exactly have you done?"

Anger flashed across Kingsley's face as he pushed open the door to the small shop. "I wanted to release her, of course." He stopped walking to turn and face Harry, anger once again evident on his face. "Did you know they had her in Top Security? _Top Security? _Hermione Granger? Like she was a mass murderer or something."

Harry's eyes bugged.

"Don't worry." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder, calming him as much as calming himself. "I sent word to have her moved as soon as I found out. I only wish it had been sooner. As it is, I saw the evidence Oldham is bringing against her." He shook his head slowly. "It's not good Harry. I couldn't let her go free under the circumstances."

"She was under full Dementor Security?" Harry asked, fixated with anger.

Kingsley nodded. "But I've had her moved."

Harry's face had grown pale with the news but was quickly darkening to scarlet with fury. "That is it." He seethed under his breath. "I've had more than enough. I've tried to do the right thing. I've tried to be patient and to excuse her because she's old school Auror, but this has gone too far."

"Harry?" Kingsley called toward the young man's retreating back. "Where are you going?"

"To do something I should have done a long time ago."

* * *

He was drained. Exhausted. He could feel it every bone. Every muscle. Every movement felt slow and sluggish. He was struggling, futilely, to keep his eyes open. They felt heavy and weak. His vision blurred. The orbs burned. He blinked twice to clear his vision before he could read the time off his watch. He screwed up his eyes, trying to estimate how much sleep he would need in order to be functional tomorrow. He decided as he trudged toward his front door three or four. That was the most he would allow himself.

He stumbled, his toe caught on an uneven paving stone, and managed to catch himself. Okay, he decided as he looked up at the house. Maybe five. He turned his face away from the dark, empty windows of his home. He rolled his shoulders. He would need to eat something as well. He paused a moment. Unsure if there was anything in the house to eat. He tried to remember the last time he had gone shopping. It had been a while.

When he reached his front door he struggled to slide the key into the lock. He'd thought it would be easier, less taxing, then pulling out his wand and conjuring a spell to unlock it. He missed the lock again. Perhaps he had underestimated how tired he was.

Ron leaned forward until he was more even with the key hole, squinted his eyes as he attempted to focused on the lock. He jabbed it towards the lock again. After two more tries the key eased into the lock and he turned it open. He followed close behind the door as it swung open causing him to bump into it when it stopped only half open.

"What the hell?" Ron looked around the side of the door, giving it anther shove, jamming it further. There was a pile of unopened letters sitting on the floor directly in front of the door.

Cursing silently to himself, Ron bent to scoop them up. He used his foot to close the door as he shuffled the missives into a neat stack. He immediately began flipping through, discarding some in a growing pile on the boxes stacked next to his door. He knew he needed to write back to his mother soon or she would come here looking for him…

He stared at the unopened letter. He didn't know what to say to her. How could he tell his own mother that he didn't want to see her? That it was too painful? Too humiliating? That nothing, even her, mattered until he knew that Bla…he stopped himself. Until he knew the Blythe child was safe. How was he supposed to tell her that and not hurt her in the process? He shook his head, tossing her letters and several more on the growing pile next to the door. Hesitating a moment he tossed the messages from Ginny on the pile as well. Harry's he debated over longer. Eventually he stuffed them into his pocket. He would read them later. There might be something important in them.

With only a few missives left in his hand he moved towards his office. He would have to take care of these ones before he thought about eating. There was a ruffling of wings as he strode into the room. Five owls vied for purchase on the stand near the window.

Not knowing how long some of them had been waiting he summoned them water and owl treats. "Help yourself." He grumbled as he took their missives one by one. Three of them were from Roland Greene, demanding to know where the hell he and his team were and what the hell they were doing. One was a news reporter asking for an exclusive interview. The last was an official notice letting him know when he was being called to testify against Carbonell and Melantha Javed. It took him a few minutes to check the date on the paper with the one in his head. Realizing that he had no clue what day it was he went in search of his watch and the little calendar that churned away in the bottom of the face. His eyes bulged when he made out the date in the dimming light.

The first surprise came with the realization that so many days had passed since he has last come home. He had been scouring the country looking for any sign of Blake, not daring to come home in fear of losing time or the trail of a lead. It was gutting to realize that so many days had passed without him finding anything.

The second surprise came with the realization that the trial was set for tomorrow. He had expected it to take more time to press charges and set a court date, especially in the current climate. He cursed as he sank into his desk chair. He thought he'd have more time to prepare.

He groaned as he spun the chair around so that he was facing the work space. There went those five hours of sleep he was counting on. He'd be lucky if he got two. Using his foot he spun his chair to the side until he faced the drawer of his desk. He used his wand to illuminate the room before he unwarded the drawer, pulled it open and flipped through the files until he found what he was looking for. He plopped the stack of folders on his desk, flipped open the top folder, and bent over the desk, chin braced on his curled hands. With a sigh he started reading. Before he could get very far there was the familiar screech of an owl approaching.

He turned in his chair to face the open window. A large, black bird swooped through the window and landed on his extended arm, it's wings dropping with exhaustion. The owl's claws dug into his arm as it fought to remain upright. The talons of one claw dug deep as it extended the other leg towards Ron, trying valiantly to keep its purchase.

"You've been looking for me a while, haven't you." Ron crooned softly to the bird. "Why don't you rest here a while." He nodded towards the vacant chair. "Get you strength back before you head out?"

The owl hooted gratefully as Ron brought his arm close to the perch, allowing the bird to step off his arm instead of flying.

When the bird was settled Ron spun back around, flipping over the letter, ready to open it. He paused. He moved up in his seat, sitting straighter when he saw the seal emblazoned on the back. This was a letter he'd actually been waiting for. He slipped his finger under the seal and prized it up.

His eyes scanned the missive quickly. The message was short and to the point, he liked that. And the news it brought was even better.

Satisfied, Ron crumpled up the missive in a tight ball, tossed it in the air, and used his wand to send it into the fireplace where he set it ablaze. Ron watched the few seconds it took for the magical fire to completely disintegrate it, feeling the weight of his obligation leave him as the paper burned.

That taken care of he turned back to his desk and took up the file. Before he could read one sentence there was a knock at his front door. He turned towards the sound, eyes narrowing as if he could see through the walls to who was standing at the front door.

He pushed his chair back from the desk. He would have thought it a family member. His mother, or his sister, possibly even Harry, but quickly dismissed the idea. The knock was too timid to be any of them. Nor would they have bothered using the front door. They would have opted to use the floo instead. Better to catch him before he had a chance to escape.

There was another knock, a little more forceful then the last, but still timid at the same time. Ron pushed back his chair and tossed the file back on his desk. He quickened his step as he left the room and moved toward the front door. He had a lot of work to do tonight, no time to waste. He slid over the knob releasing the lock and pulled open the door.

Ron's eyes widened with surprise. "What are you doing here?" He blurted out. Realizing immediately how rude he had sounded he smiled apologetically. "Sorry. Ahhh…" he rubbed the back of his neck, " I, er…"

The young girl's skin heated, darkening to a dull red. She shifted her weight awkwardly, ducking her eyes as she tucked a stray auburn curl behind her ear. "I'm sorry to be bothering you like this, Mr Weasley." She hazard a glance up at his face but quickly looked away when she met his eyes. "I know it isn't my place to come here, I don't even know you after all. Well, I do know you, who doesn't? I mean to say I know a great deal about you. What from the papers and my father going on and on and…" Her skin grew even darker. "Not that I believe half of what I hear…I mean, that's not the point. What I mean to say is… I shouldn't be here. I'll just leave now before I embarrass myself any further."

Bernie Hamlin turned hastily on her heal, ready to flee down the walk and into the night.

"Ms Hamlin," Ron called before she had the chance to get far.

She came to a stop, her shoulders going up around her ears. Hesitantly she turned her head to look back at him over her shoulder.

"Why _did_ you come here, exactly?"

Her skin returned to what he was beginning to believe was her usual shade of red. The corners of her lips turned up in a tentative smile. "I thought," she hesitated, biting her lip. "I thought you could use the company." She flung up a hand as if to stop his thoughts, her eyes widening with what he assumed was horror. "Not that you need the company of a stranger. I just thought, well my father speaks very highly of you, you see. And, and, and I know, because of when my ma died, for myself at the least, that it was easier being around people who weren't involved." She was fully facing him now and took a few steps back up the path towards the house. "I brought you something to eat." She offered, holding up a ceramic dish with a lid. "It's my da's favorite." She offered lamely when he didn't respond, lowering the dish to carrying height. "I thought you might…" She cut off uncomfortably.

Bernie squirmed awkwardly under Ron's steady gaze. She had just decided to flee after all, with as much of her dignity as she still had intact, when he stepped to the side, clearing the doorway for her. "That's very kind of you." He offered when she made no move to enter.

Visibly relaxing, Bernie squared her shoulder and climbed the few short steps and stepped lightly into the house.

Once through the door Bernie paused, taking a moment to observe the foyer as Ron closed and bolted the door. "Are you moving?" She asked, nodding towards the stack of boxes.

"No." Ron said moving past her, his eyes determinedly facing forward. "Just…cleaning house." He glanced over at her as she fell into step beside him. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone in need of a nursery?"

"No. Sorry." She shook her head, once again biting her bottom lip. "I can't say that I do."

Hoping to change the subject Ron pushed forward. "You have perfect timing." He lied. "I was just thinking I should stop and eat. Unfortunately I don't think I have anything in the house. I hope you brought enough for two." He said lightly.

Bernie's cheeks flamed again. Ron had the fleeting thought that the poor girl was cursed worse than any Weasley he'd yet to meet.

"That's not…" she stammered. "I only meant to bring you…I wasn't looking for an invitation." She finally managed. "It isn't necessary…"

"Of course it is." Ron said cutting her off. He glanced down at the dish she carried. "You don't expect me to eat all of that by myself, do you?"

Bernie's lips twitched. "I have heard rumors."

Ron's own lips twitched the slightest. "Which is why I'm sure you're father had you make more than enough for two." Ron tilted his head towards her. "That is a part of his plan, after all." He said as if they were a part of some hidden conspiracy.

Bernie smiled sheepishly. "You aren't angry, are you?"

"No." Ron assured her, turning away. "I've been expecting this for some time. Your father's a persistent man."

"I must confess," she said after a few more steps. "I'm not only here because of my da." She stopped walking, forcing Ron to stop as well and turn and face her. She lowered her face. "I know how this is going to sound, but…" She took a large breath. "I've heard so many stories about you over the years, both from my da and from others, that in a way I feel like I know you. And I just…I just couldn't bear the thought of you…suffering on your own. No one should go through something like this alone."

Ron stared at her for a silent minute. He seemed to be coming to a decision. "I don't want to talk about her." He finally said.

"Who?" She looked up at him knowingly. "Exactly?"

Another heavy pause. "Both."

Bernie nodded that she understood.

"Alright then." Ron turned. "Do I need to start the oven or…"

"No." Bern picked up her step to follow him. "It's still warm. I put a heating charm on it before I left the house. I've become quite good at them."

"Oh?" Ron glanced back at her. "Why's that?"

Bernie's cheeks flamed again. "This…" she lowered her face, "this isn't the first time I've stopped." She mumbled just loud enough for him. "I hardly expected you to answer."

Ron ignored the implications of her confession. "I haven't been home as of much lately. I've been rather busy."

"So I've noticed."

He could hear the embarrassment in her voice. "The dining room's through there." He nodded at a door to his left as he drew even with it. "You can wait inside while I get some plates."

"I can help you." She offered.

"That's not necessary." He opened the door for her. "You provided the food, I can provide the rest."

"If you're sure?"

"Sit." He nodded towards one of the empty chairs. "I'll be right back." Not allowing her another chance to protest he turned and walked quickly down the remaining length of hallway to the kitchen.

Feeling more than a little awkward Bernie stepped into the dining room. Not sure what to do with herself she put the dish in the middle of the table.

Hands planted on her hips she turned in a slow, tight circle, taking in the room and its furnishings. A soft smile touched her lips. It didn't take a great leap of the imagination to guess as to what had inspired the color pallet.

The walls were painted a deep, almost blood red. The wood that made the furniture, the trim, the moldings and the floor were all stained a darker shade of brown that looked black in the dim light. And to leave no doubt where his allegiance lay, the room was accented with touches of gold.

"My sister picked that." Ron said as he came back into the room, magicing a tray in front of him.

Bernie was holding one of a handsome pair of gold candlesticks. "I'm sorry." She flushed, quickly setting it back in its place.

"It's all right." Ron dismissed her apology as he directed the heaving plate of dishes to the table. "Ginny has good taste. Even _I _can recognize that." He used his wand to direct the dinnerware off the tray and to set themselves on the table. "She did this entire room, actually."

"And Ginny's your sister?" She asked to clarify.

Ron nodded.

"And she's the one married to Harry Potter?"

Ron smiled as he nodded this time. "Seeing as I have only one sister, she _would_ be the one."

Bernie's face heated again, which only made Ron's smile grow. He didn't know why, but he liked that she blushed even more readily than him.

"What would you like?" He asked, giving her his back, allowing her a moment to compose herself. "I have wine. Firewhiskey. An assortment of Muggledrinks…"

"Actually," she stepped closer to the table. "Do you have pumpkin juice? Only, I have the late shift tonight and it wouldn't be appropriate."

"Of course." Ron summoned the drink from the kitchen and poured a glass for both her and himself when it arrived. He handed her a glass then saluted her with his own before they both took a drink.

"So," he motioned for her to take a seat. "How much longer until you finish your training?"

Bernie hesitated a moment then sat. "Well," She took another sip before placing the glass in front of her. "I've a little more than a year left of this part of the program." She watched his hands as he filled his plate with her own heavier version of Shepherd's Pie. He started to lean forward to pick up her plate but stopped halfway through the act and instead handed her the spoon he had used to scoop up the meal. She smiled as she took the handle. "After that," she continued as if she hadn't noticed, but secretly wondered what that had been about, "I choose a specialty and spend the next two years studying under a Master, after which point I will be fully qualified."

Ron whistled low as he leaned back in his seat. "That's insane."

"What?" She put down the spoon and took up her fork, jabbing it into the mound of food.

"That's a lot of extra school. Personally, I couldn't wait to be out."

"I liked school." Bernie said, blowing on the fork full of hot carrot. "I wasn't ready for it to be over when I graduated."

"Is that why you chose to become a Healer?"

"No." Bernie shook her head sadly. A long, red curl fell over her eye. She tossed her head slightly to move it back. "I've always wanted to be a Healer. Ever since I was a little girl. We were always bringing my brother Michael in to heal or fix something. And I would watch them work…it was fascinating." She bowed her head. "And then when my ma died…" She lifted her eyes to meet Ron's. "I know there was nothing we could do to save her. I know…But if I," she held a hand to her chest, "If I could heal only one person's mother. Stop that one person from having to go through what I had to…then becoming a Healer would be well worth it." She stared at Ron a moment longer before she bowed her head once again towards her food. "I'm sorry." The curl had fallen across her face again and she tucked it behind her ear. "I'm talking too much again. I always do that."

"That's all right." Ron assured her. "I don't mind."

Trying to hide her embarrassment, Bernie picked up her glass and drank deep. "How about you?" She asked, setting the glass down. "Did you always want to be an Auror?"

Ron stopped chewing for a moment as he thought back. "No." He swallowed. A baleful grin spread across his lips. "I wanted to play Quidditch for the Cannons."

"Why didn't you?" She scooped some pie into her mouth to keep from laughing.

Ron sat still for a moment as he thought. "I recon," he said slowly, "it all comes down to being friends with Harry."

"What?" She teased, "He wouldn't let you?"

"No," Ron leaned forward, willing to be candid after she had been with him. "Harry would have thought it brilliant. No," he shook his head, trying to find the right words. "Harry has this way of…making you want to be a better person." Ron nodded with satisfaction. "Yeah. That's it. That's exactly it. Even when we were children, with him, it was never a question. If someone was in trouble, you did what you could to save them. No matter what. Even if it meant putting yourself in danger."

Ron fell quiet, his brow furrowing slightly from his thoughts. His mouth twitched slightly on one side seconds before he shook his head as if to clear it. "It was never difficult to do the right thing when you were spending time with Harry. His selflessness was so innate… I recon it was Harry who showed me that I had that need to help people, to protect them, inside me all along. So once the idea of being an Auror was inside my head," he shrugged, "there was no going back."

"And yet," she paused, uncertain, "you're going to give it all up."

Ron started, his fork colliding noisily with his plate. "Where did you hear that?"

Bernie shrugged a shoulder. "My da is privy to all sorts of Minsitry gossip."

Ron's eyes rolled in his head. "I should have guessed."

"But even if my da wasn't an incorrigible gossip, I would have heard rumor of it." Her voice lowered an octave. "The whole of the Minsitrty is talking about it."

Ron's head bowed forward, eyes closed. "I'm going to kill Parker." He mumbled under his breath.

"So it's true?" Her eyes widened with surprise.

Ron opened his eyes to look at the girl with mild curiosity and surprise. Not many people outside his close circle of friends had the audacity to demand answers from him, especially on a subject so personal. "I can neither confirm nor deny these rumors at such time."

Bernie frowned at him clearly annoyed. "Which is Ministry speech for yes."

Ron kept his mouth tightly shut.

Bernie turned her focus to her mostly untouched meal. She absently pushed the vegetables around the plate, her mind processing what she had leaned. Finally she set down her fork and lifted her hands to act as a brace for her chin. "I must confess," She tipped her head slightly to the side. "I hadn't expected the rumors to be true."

"No?"

"Of course not?" She laughed derisively. "The last rumors to go about the Ministry about you had you getting some Muggle girl pregnant and her abandoning your magical baby on your Ministry doorstep."

Ron wasn't smiling. "And you didn't believe that one either?"

Needing something to do with her hands, Bernie picked up her fork and speared a piece of meat. "I might have," she lifted the meat to her lips, "if da didn't talk about you all the time."

"And what's so hard to believe about me impregnating a Muggle girl?"

Bernie remained quiet for several minutes, weather it was from not knowing how to answer or simply not having one, Ron didn't know. "Did you know," she began, "that you're quite frequently _the_ topic of conversation? I don't know many people who are unaware of your every move. Gossips…they're like elephants." Ron's face contorted with confusion. "They remember everything." She clarified. "My da…well… let's just say he has some very strong opinions about you. And I can't, for one moment believe, that he would have pushed so hard for us to meet if he thought you were a womanizer."

"Ollie doesn't know everything."

"He's a good judge of a man's character. I trust him."

Not knowing what to say to that Ron filled his mouth full with Shepherd's Pie, chewing the mouthful slowly before he swallowed.

"So why are you leaving the Aurors?" She pressed.

Ron lowered his fork, at the same time fighting a yawn. "You're not afraid to ask personal questions, are you?"

"No," she said simply. "I recon I'm not. But why should I be? If a person doesn't want to answer they won't. Besides, I have to ask people personal questions of a personal nature everyday with my job."

"About their bodies," he argued, "not their personal lives."

"Sometimes both." She reasoned. "There are situations where I need to ask a patient questions about their personal life because it pertains to a diagnosis."

"You're not treating me."

"No." She conceded with a bow. "I'm not."

Nodding with satisfaction Ron returned to his food while Bernie lifted the glass to her lips.

She stared at him several minutes before taking another. "So, what will you do instead?" She set her drink down. "Seek a position with the Cannons?"

Ron couldn't help but grin at the thought, his annoyance all but forgotten. "No." He shook his head. "I'm too old for that."

"Oh yes." She laughed. "Positively ancient. What are you now? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?"

"Twenty-three."

"I see what you mean." She nodded solemnly. "Another few years and you'd have to retire all together."

"Precisely." Ron struggled to hide the smile in his voice. "But beside all that, I haven't played competitively since…Hogwarts."

"So," she brought the question back around. "What will you do?"

"I haven't decided." All traces of humor were gone. He turned his head to stare out the darkened window. "I think I'll go. Somewhere where no one knows who I am. Where no one knows my name or my face." He turned back to her, his face hardening. "Where the intimate details of my life haven't been splashed across the front page of every newspaper."

Bernie's eyes softened with sadness. "Is it really that terrible for you here?"

Ron leaned suddenly forward, his arms folded one over the other, braced steadily on the table. "How many times have we met?"

Bernie arched a brow, uncertain where this question was leading. "Twice." She offered tentatively.

"Twice." Ron repeated for emphasis. "And how much do you know about me and what's going on in my life _right now_?"

She paused to think for a moment. "I see what you mean."

Ron looked down at his hand lying curled against the table top. "It didn't really bother me before. I would be lying if I didn't say that a part of me welcomed the attention. It feels good to be recognized…when it's something you're proud of. But when it's your own personal misery…"

"It's different." She concluded.

"I can't escape." He sat back. He had no idea why he was telling her all of this. He hardly knew her after all. But he couldn't make himself stop. Something about her had him wanting to tell her everything. It felt like she had managed to blow open the floodgates and there was nothing he could do to stop the flow until all the pressure was released. It was like he was purging his mind and body of some of the pain he had been carrying with him, and he couldn't stop. He didn't want to. Not just yet. "I can't even leave my house," he continued, "without being reminded of what happened. No one will let me forget."

Bernie reached forward to place her hand gently over his. "No one would blame you for wanting to get away."

"But they do." He said scornfully. "And because of that I can't go."

"Why not?"

"Because," he raised his eyes to hers. "I'll let everyone down."

"I don't believe that?"

"Really?" He pulled his hand free as he leaned back in his chair. "My sister assures me that if I leave I'll be letting my family down. Parker, my partner and second in command, tells me if I resign I'll be letting my team down. And I'm sure if we asked someone else I'd be letting down the rest of the Wizarding Community. I'm a public figure you know." He said snidely. "People rely on me."

"Hmm," she frowned unhappily. "I see what you mean." She scooped up several bites of the pie, chewing them slowly, thoughtfully. "How do Harry and Hermione cope with all of this? It has to be just as bad for them."

Ron's jaw stiffened under her gaze. "Harry's use to it, I suppose. He's been under the public eye, or at least aware of it, ever since he rejoined the Wizarding world."

"And Hermione?" she persisted.

Ron took a few strong pulls from him pumpkin juice, wishing fervently at the moment that it was something stronger. He lowered the cup briefly. "Hermione runs away." He said unemotionally.

Bernie tilted her head thoughtfully to the side. "I take it you don't approve of her method?"

Ron put the glass down with a little more power than he had intended. "Running away is the cowardly thing to do. A true Gryffindor would stay and face whatever was coming, no matter how much it pained them."

She arched a brow. "I see. And, a…where was it you were planning on running to?"

"I was thinking Amer-" He cut off halfway as the full meaning of her question registered.

Immediate shame washed over him. Finally he understood. That's what Ginny and Parker and how many others had been trying to tell him. To show him. He had been so focused on escaping his pain, on being free of it all, that he hadn't let himself understand that he was in fact trying to run away.

He shook his head slowly, trying to deny the realization. But he couldn't do it. Not anymore. He couldn't be one of those people. He wasn't going anywhere. He wouldn't be like Hermione, running away from her problems when things got too hard. He would stay and he would fight. He would face them head on.

The silence stretched on a few minutes longer. "America." He met her gaze, jaw firmly set. "I was thinking of running," he choked on the word, "to America."

"But not anymore?"

He gave his head a curt shake. "I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled at him softly. "I did'na think you would."

"I'll see this through." He clarified. "But then…"

"You'll do what you think is right." Once again she reached across the space that separated them and rested her hand on top of his. "You know," she said softly. "I read once that there are cases where the thing's a person hates most in others is in fact what they hate most in themselves."

Ron nodded. "I think," he had to pause as he fought back another yawn, "I think you'll be a great Healer someday."

She smiled softly. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

His eyes narrowed curiously. "Really?"

She nodded impishly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "I hear you have a great deal of experience with Healers."

Ron chuckled, nodding. "That I do. Not so much as Harry though."

"Now _that,_" she laughed, "I believe."


	28. In Green's Office

Chapter Twenty-Eight: In Greene's Office

Jillian bit down, her teeth tearing into the skin of her apple, a hunk breaking lose and juice dribbling down her chin. Annoyed by the sticky sweetness gathering on her skin, she whipped it angrily away with her sleeve.

There hadn't been time this morning for a proper breakfast. She had to move quickly. Get things rearranged to her liking. It wouldn't take long for certain people inside the Ministry to learn what steps she had taken and try and put an end to them. She wasn't about to let that happen.

She bit into the apple again, the skin giving away to her white teeth. There really hadn't been time to stop and get even the apple, but the pangs in her stomach were so fierce she couldn't ignore them and continue t work without distraction.

The apple didn't seem to be helping any. The moment the fruit hit her stomach it screamed the louder, hungry for more sustenance.

Annoyed, she took another bite and turned into her office. She closed the door behind her and leaned into it. She crossed one arm over her stomach, rested her other elbow on the back of her hand, and lifted the apple to her lips.

She paused a moment, the red skin resting against her bottom lip. After tapping it there several times she bit deep, holding the fruit with her teeth. She fumbled around in her pocket for a moment as she searched for her wand. Pulling it free she flicked it towards the far wall.

A slow ripple, like a pebble dropped into still water, began in the middle of the wall and moved out, disturbing the illusion of a blank space until a series of maps were revealed, becoming more detailed with each ripple of magic.

When the waves ended and the wall was once again solid, Jillian pushed away from the door and moved towards the largest of the maps. She took another bite from her apple, head tilted, eyes narrowed, until she was standing right in front of it. She finished chewing the fruit and swallowed while tapping the tip of her wand against her cheek. She considered for a few more seconds before she brought the tip to the map, striking it softly in a few locations before stepping back.

Three little red balls of light appeared in the spots she had indicated, the small orbs hovering just over the map. She took another bite as she considered. She tilted her head to the other side. She gave the map one more tap.

Satisfied she waved her wand and the map of England sank into the background. Another wave and a map of the continent moved forward. She tapped the map again. A green light popped into existence and came to a stop, hovering just over Spain. Another tap and the rest of the map fell back and Spain came forward, growing, filling the space where England had been moments before.

The frown on Jillian's face deepened as she took in the map. Yes. Spain was where she'd go next. That feeling she got in the pit of her stomach, the feeling that told her she was onto something, was telling her that she was right about this.

Granger's logic was solid. There was no doubt about that. Any fool could see there hadn't been time for Granger to get the child to Spain then come back between the time the child was reported missing and when her team picked up Granger in her office. Without the use of a Time Turner…and how could she possibly have gotten her hands on one of those? No. It had to be something else. Or, someone else, more likely. But even then, there weren't many people in the world like the Weasleys. Willing to over look a law or two to help a friend. What were the chances Granger had found another self-sacrificing idiot to be her friend while she was in Spain? Not very high. But she was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors did seem to be able to achieve that kind of devotion between their friends.

Jillian stepped closer to the map, focusing on the lines and dots that indicated the different cities and towns that speckled the country side of Spain.

However small the chances were of making that kind of friend, she appeared to have done it. It was the only logical explanation. It explained how the child had disappeared so completely without a trace. And Harry Potter's untimely visit to the country. And probably most damning, it explained Grangers unexpected confession. She rested the tip of her long finger just below the city of Madrid.

Madrid. The city Hermione had lived in for the past five years. The city Harry Potter had flown into. One of the largest, over populated, busy cities in the country. Somewhere in that city was the answer to all her questions. She tapped her wand there. The city glowed bright orange. Yes. Madrid. That was where she would begin her search anew.

Jillian jerked with surprise, wrenching out of her silent focus by the sound of knocking on her office door followed by the squeal of it opening. She turned to find her assistant ducking his head through the gap between the door and the sill.

"Captain Oldham?" He turned his head until he found her standing next to the wall. There was an uneasiness about him that unsettled her as he stepped into the room. He clasped his hands behind his back as he met her gaze full on. There was a hard edge to his eyes she hadn't seen there before. "General Greene wants to see you. In his office. Now."

Jillian sighed with annoyance. "Can't it wait?"

His face scrunched up on one side. "No." He drew out the word. "It can't. He wants you in his office. Immediately."

Cursing under her breath, Jillian waved her wand at the maps and the ripple began again, hiding the diagrams behind an illusion as they extended outward. "I really don't have time for this." She snarled as she marched past her assistant, tossing what remained of her apple in the rubbish bin. "He would want to see me now." She grumbled under breath. "Now that I have everything all but taken care of he has time to see me. Where was he a week or two ago?"

She turned off the empty corridor into the reception area of Greene's office. His assistant was already standing near the door, hand resting on the handle to open it for her.

Not sparing the assistant another glance, Jillian marched past into his office. The door closed behind her.

The backside of the Daily Prophet greeted her, its moving pictures momentarily distracting her. An angry face stared back at her. She looked away.

"Morning Chief." She said, forcing a note of frivolity into her voice she didn't feel.

After a moment the paper moved. Greene lowered it, folding it carefully along the crease. His eyes were firm and ill-humored as they stared at her. "Take a seat Jillian."

Sensing immediately in his demeanor a severity he didn't normally carry around with him, Jillian moved to the chair and sat, her movements feeling just as stiff and precise of Greene's had been.

The silence was interrupted with the thud of the folded paper connecting with his thigh. It was rhythmic and grating, gnawing on her raw nerves. To counter the effects she tried to force herself into as relaxed a pose as she could manage. Whatever was about to happen she didn't want Greene reading anything off her.

After what felt like an eternity of silence he slapped the paper against his leg one last time. "Have you seen the papers this morning?"

Jillian looked at him quizzically, his question not at all what she had been expecting. "No Sir. I haven't the time to waist on such frivols activities."

"Well," he sat up. "Why don't you take a moment and join the rest of us frivolous people and make the time." He threw the paper at her.

She caught it in a mess of hands and arms, the leaves starting to come loose of the pile.

"Go ahead." He instructed when she stared at him. "Read it."

Her sense of dread growing, Jillian flipped over the paper. She stared at the broadsheet a moment in confusion. A picture took up the most of the front page. It was a picture taken just after the war. It depicted a slightly younger Hermione Granger standing next to the Minister of Magic, meekly accepting an award for her services to the Wizarding Community for her deeds of bravery and self-sacrificing during the course of the war and her role in helping bring an end to Voldemort's rein.

Jillian lowered the paper, lifting her eyes to ask Greene what this was all about but stopped when she spotted the caption emblazoned over the top.

War Hero Imprisoned: Hermione Granger Held In Maximum Security

Jillian tried to stop her fingers from curling into the paper as she slowly brought it closer to her face to read. The room was silent as she scanned the lines, each one exclusively targeting her as the reason behind Granger's captivity.

She held the paper in front of her face a moment longer after she finished reading the damning article, composing her features before she'd let Greene see her face. "That's it?" She asked. Tossing the paper back on his desktop in what she hopped appeared to be a flippant maneuver. "You called me away from my work to read that?"

Blood pooled in Greene's face, altering it a bright red in the effort to restrain his anger. "Do you have any idea," he asked slowly, "what you've done?"

"Yes." She crossed her right leg over the other, perfecting a relaxed pose. "I got a confession out of our friend Ms Granger." She lifted her hand to examine her nails.

"A confession?" Greene barked sharply. "You got a confession? Well isn't that just bloody fantastic?" He shoved angrily against his desk, moving back his chair so he had enough room to gain his feet. "What the hell kind of good is that going to do anyone?"

"I don't understand," she lowered her hand, scrunching her features in what she hopped was a perplexed look. "Isn't that what we _do_ here?"

Greene's eyes narrowed. "Don't get smart with me, Oldham. This isn't the time. You've gotten yourself into a real mess."

"What mess?" Her hand waved dismissively. "Stories run about us all the time in the Prophet. It's never bent you out of shape before."

"This isn't like every other time, Jillian." Greene rounded the side of his desk. "This isn't just another case. This isn't just another criminal."

Jillian's jaw stiffened, her teeth clenched. "Of course it is."

"No Jillian. This is Hermione-Bloody-Granger we're talking about. She's not just anybody. She has friends. _Important_ friends. "

"There's no need to tell _me_ that."

"Obviously there is. You didn't seem to hear me the first time around."

"I heard you."

"Did you? Did you really? Because I seem to recall warning you to watch your step. To make sure you followed the rules. To play this one _by the book_."

"I did…"

"No," He cut her off. "You did not. Or we wouldn't be here right now having this conversation."

Jillian very carefully placed her hands on the arms of the chair, curling her fingers slowly around the ends. "I haven't done anything I've not done before."

"Which is part of the problem." There was an edge of defeat in his voice. He released some of his anger in a rush of air, slumping angrily on the edge of his desk, hands braced on the edge, fingers curling tightly underneath. "I can't put this all on you." His head bowed. "I've allowed you to get away with too much. I've been lenient with you when I shouldn't have been. I've let you get away with things I would have tore into anyone else for, because you were a good Auror. You served the Ministry well… in your day…"

Jillian forced her features into an expressionless mask. "But…" she asked, hoping he didn't hear the tremor that had crept into her voice.

"But you've overstepped your bounds this time. You went behind my back and placed a _war hero_ in maximum security without clearing it with me first." He leaned forward, hands braced heavily on his knees. "Did you think I wasn't going to find out?"

She tipped her chin defiantly. "It took you this long."

Greene's nostrils flared. "I'll warn you to remember who you're talking to. You're already hanging by a thread. You'd be well advised to be very careful what you say next. I'm this close," he held up his thumb and forefinger, a small gap between them, "from cutting you lose all together. As it is, you've already left me very few options."

He turned away from her to walk back around his desk. "You'll go back to your office and pack your things…"

"Sir," She was on her feet in an instant.

"Until further notice," he said over her interruption, "you're suspended."

Jillian gapped at him dumbly for a moment. She opened her mouth several times to speak, but only gapped, the words unable to make it past her throat. "Sir," she choked. "This has to be some kind of sick joke."

"Jillian," he held his hands up, open, facing her. "My hands are tied. The public is screaming for your head. Owls have been flooding the Ministry since four o'clock this morning, demanding your job. We've had to put up numerous wards to keep them all out. The Community is enraged. You put _Hermione Granger, _member of the Golden Trio, the Golden Girl of Hogwarts, _Harry Potter's_ best friend, in a top security cell of Azkaban prison. What did you think was going to happen?"

"I haven't done anything wrong."She said desperately. "I've used these same tactics before. I got the confession, didn't I?"

Greene's face widened with momentary shock. "Just how many others?"

Jillian stared at him a moment, incomprehensibly before her eyes widened in horror. She turned her face away a moment too late.

"Jillian." He snapped. "How many others have there been?"

Jillian crooked her head until she was looking at him. "Granger's the only one I put in top security."

Greene's eyes widened with horror of his own. "But not the only one you've tormented with Dementors?"

Jillian squared her shoulders, flinging her hair back off her face. "I got the confession."

"Yes." He shook his head with disbelief. "Yes you've got the confession. And I'm sure the courts will be more than willing to let you use it when they learn how it was obtained. Jillian…" He took a breath to try and calm his roaring temper. "We don't use Demenotrs as a form of corrosion. We don't torture people. We're not…Death Eaters."

Jillian slammed her hands down on the top of her thighs. "There was no other way to make her talk."

"You don't know that. There may have been. But we'll never know now. You've lost your chance to try."

"Hermione Granger kidnapped that little girl."

"And you've managed to make her untouchable but turning her into even more of a hero. The people _already_ loved her. And now they love her even more because they believe she was protecting that little girl from Death Eaters. Can you, for even a moment, try and imagine how this must look to them. You've gone and locked up their hero for being a hero. The only way you could have made this worse was if you'd locked up Harry Potter or Ron Weasley. What were you thinking?"

Jillian turned away, refusing to answer.

"If I were you, Jillian," he offered, "I'd be very careful not to get caught alone in the next couple days."

Floundering, feeling lost in her very own worst nightmare, Jillian bit into her tongue painfully. She swallowed her cry of pain as she lifted her eyes from the floor. "So once again," she finally managed, "a member of the Golden Trio gets special treatment. She's going to get off, free and clear? With nothing more than a slap on the wrist?"

"I think you've put her through more than just a slap on the wrist."

She ignored the comment. "Why am I not surprised? Those three get away with everything."

"And whose fault is it this time? If you had just followed the rules like I told you…"

"I can't believe you're blaming this on me?"

"Who else should I place the blame on? Your own actions brought out this outcome, not mine. I didn't sign any orders to transfer Granger to Azkaban. Nor did I okay her being placed in maximum security. You did that all on your own."

"Fine." The tears that had flooded her eyes escaped down her cheeks. "That's just fine. Go ahead and put all of this on me. I don't care." She lurched to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

"Not here you don't." He stopped her when her hand was resting on the knob of the door. "You can go back to your office, like I said, and pack any personal items you might wish to bring with you. I'll have someone come and escort you home."

Jillian refused to look back at him. "I can manage to make it home on my own, thank you."

"For your own protection…"

Her head snapped around. "I can take care of myself."

They stared at each other for a solid minute. Finally he desisted with a nod. "As you wish."

Jillian wrenched the door open and slammed it closed behind her. She collapsed against the panel, her hands shaking. She blinked several times, trying to make her roaring brain focus. She couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

Suspended?

Her?

How had this happened? How had she lost control so completely? And without any warning? Was it really just this morning that she had begun planning a rescue mission? No. Not this morning. Half an hour ago. How could a person's world turn so completely upside down in less than half an hour?

What was she going to do? Her chest tightened, her breathing starting to come quicker. Her eyes darted around frantically, searching for an escape, something magical in the long hallway that would rescue her.

There was nothing.

In the back of her mind she knew that if she didn't move soon Greene would come out of his office and find her still standing there. She couldn't bear the further humiliation that would cause her. Mustering what little was left inside of her she pushed away from the door.

After only a few steps she could feel a pair of eyes settle on her back and follow her progress. Greene's assistant was watching her, the overwhelming sense of condemnation and disgust raising gooseflesh on the back of her neck.

She stepped out of the hallway and into the fringes of the cubicle made labyrinth, halting as several more pairs of hostile eyes landed on her. She made a slow circlet of the room with her eyes, noticing for the first time how unusually quiet it was.

As if to answer her unspoken question an Auror, who stood looking at her over her cubicle wall, lifted her copy of the Daily Prophet so that Jillian could see just enough to recognize it over the top. The woman slowly shook her head as she lowered the paper, her disapproving eyes never leaving Jillian.

She pulled her eyes away and froze when she met a pair of familiar eyes, the disapproval even more intense in their normally warm, golden orbs. She scanned the eyes. More and more of them were eyes she recognized as belonging to members of her own team.

Gabriel Johnson stood leaning against the corner of the nearest cubicle. Her fists clenched at the sight of him. "Was it you? Did you go to the papers?"

He stared at her stonily for a moment. "No."

"And why don't I believe you?"

He shrugged uncaringly. "Probably because I warned you this might happen." He shook his head as he stepped away from the wall. He bent his head in toward her. "You knew this was wrong, Jill. You knew."

"So why didn't you go to Greene yourself?"

"Because I didn't have this much on you." He waved the paper in front of her face. "I will tell you though, I wish I had thought of this. Very smart."

Jillian had to clench her hands at her side to keep from slapping him. The insults kept coming. First the Ministry and now her own team had turned their backs on her as well. Her desire to strike growing worse the longer she stared at him, she looked away. "You," she shoved Gabriele to the side, slamming him into the wall of the cubicle. "You." She bore down on Harry standing at the entrance to the hall leading to their offices, a satisfied smile turning up the corners of his lips. "You did this to me."

"Really?" Harry pushed away from the wall as she came to stand in front of him. He leaned towards her, his face inches away from hers. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"You went to the papers. You fed them confidential information."

"You think so?" Harry's eyes sparkled maliciously. "See, I read the paper this morning and my name wasn't mentioned, save in relationship to my _best friend_ being put in prison. That I remember reading."

"You sold me out."

Harry lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "You've been torturing my best friend. You're lucky that articles all that happened to you."

"You won't get away with this. You signed a contract with the Ministry. You'll lose your job for leaking information."

Harry stepped back from her. "I don't know what you're talking about, Oldham. I wasn't the one who talked to the press. We all know what little respect I have for the _Prophet_. If I was going to talk, why would it be to them?" His lip twitched, fighting not to smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have a trial to get to."

"Don't you walk away from me Harry Potter." She turned with him. "This isn't over."

Harry kept walking, ignoring her.

"This isn't over!" She shrieked at his back.

"Jill," Gabriele put a hand on her elbow, startling her. She spun around, fists raised, nearly hitting him. He pushed her hands down. "Jill, why don't you go to your office?"

"He…"

"Jill," He cut over her. "Go to your office."

She looked over his shoulder and saw that every Auror in the room was watching her, their eyes glued to the angry tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Go," he murmured, "Before you embarrass yourself further."

She wrenched her hands free. "Before I embarrass myself, or before I embarrass you?"

Throwing her chin back she whirled around. She walked determinedly down the hall refusing to let herself look anywhere but forward.

Harry Potter thought it was over. She could tell by his face. Oh, how wrong he was. This wasn't over. This was far from over. Greene might have suspended her and her own team might hate her, but she didn't care. As if any of that was going to stop her now. She was too close. Too close to bringing down Saint Potter and the rest of the Holy Trio. She'd keep looking. She'd go to Spain and tear Madrid apart. Brick by brick if she had to. She'd do everything and anything to find that child and bring her back to England now. Not only that, she's see to it personally that Hermione Granger went to Prison for a very, very long time.

Which meant, she walked briskly past her office, she had one last favor to call in before she was forced to leave the premises. No one made a fool out of Jillian Oldham. Not Hermione Granger. Not Harry Potter. Not Roland Greene. No one.

* * *

Another train barreled forward. Ron lifted his eyes to watch it go, unable to focus on the colorful blur, the cars moving too fast for his weary eyes to focus. The air around him screamed as the train plunged further into the tunnel, pulling it along with it. The last car disappeared from sight, the change in air pressure pulling Ron forward into a slumped position. He let the breath out of his lungs in a slow hiss.

The station around him quieted. In a few minutes Muggles would start filling the platform again, ready to catch the next train, letting it carry them off to their next destination.

He envied them. Each and every one of them. They all had a purpose. Somewhere they needed to be. People to be there with. A clear idea of what their next move was. Where they would go from here. Not only that, but the conviction to get there. While he, well, he was trapped. He had no idea how he was going to move forward and even less of an idea of how to move back.

He watched unseeingly as the platform slowly filled once again and a train pulled into the station, continuing the cycle and depressing him further. A part of him wanted to get on that train. Let it take him where ever it was going, get off somewhere along the way and get on the next one. Anywhere, and he did mean anywhere, had to be better then where he was right now.

Feeling restless he scanned the crowd around him. She still hadn't arrived.

He didn't know what had possessed him to send that owl. Of all the people that he could or should be talking to, Bernie Hamlin was not anywhere close to the top of his list. He should go. Leave before she got here and he managed to make an even bigger fool of himself.

Mind half made up, Ron put his hands against the seat to help gain his feet when a voice echoed off the tiled walls, halting him mid motion.

"Ron?" He looked up at the anxiety he heard in her voice. "Ron, are you all right? I came as soon as I got your message. What's happened?"

Ron opened his mouth, ready to tell her it had all been a mistake and he was sorry for wasting her time, but something in her eyes made him stop. "Bernie…" he sighed, resigned. "Thank you for coming." He ducked his head with shame. "I hope I didn't pull you away from anything important."

"Never mind that." She waved of his concern, sitting on the bench beside him. "Are you all right. Did something happen today?"

Ron shook his head. "No. No, nothing happened." He clasped his hands tightly between his knees. "Nothing at all."

"Ron," she placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder, her voice coaxing him to continue with her sincerity. "You didn't owl me for nothing."

He looked down at his hands, concentrating his attention away from her and onto a hangnail on his left thumb. Be picked at it with his right. "I testified today."

"Yes," She nodded. "Carbonell and Melantha Javed. I know."

She waited, patiently, knowing he would continue only when he was ready.

Ron swallowed heavily. "I thought…." His voice cracked, forcing him to swallow again to clear the phlegm still caught in his throat. "I guess…I deluded myself… into believing it would be over today." He turned his head slightly so he could look into her eyes. He let out a sound of disgust. "How pathetic am I?"

Bernie reached for his hand, holding it comfortingly between both of hers. "You're not pathetic."

"I am." He pulled his hand free, her comfort making him feel worse. "Because a part of me honestly believed that this was all just a part of their master plan."He closed his eyes. They fluttered softly as he fought with the moisture gathering there. "I think I really believed this was all a ruse. That they were going to use her as a bargaining chip for their freedom." His shoulders tensed. "I expected them to contact me to negotiate a deal. The return of Blake for time off their sentence." His breath shuttered as he inhaled. "I think…I think that…I would have let them." He turned his head to look her straight on. "I'm a Ministry Auror and I really believe I would have let them go. I would have compromised myself and my team to get her back." He shook his head with disgust. "I'm despicable."

"No." Bernie said insistently. "You're not."

"I am. I am…I took an oath and…that's not we're about."

"Ron,"

"But the thing is," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "in all the times I thought about this day, this wasn't …it wasn't supposed to end like this."

She reached for his hand again, curling her fingers around his. "It's not over yet."

"No." He sat up. "It is." His head trembled from side to side. "Because… they don't have her." His hand tensed. "They really don't have her."

Bern opened her mouth to speak but stopped, not knowing how to put her next question. She tilted her head to the side, staring at their folded fingers. "Do you…" She closed her eyes, taking a moment to swallow. "Do you think you know who might?"

Ron nodded, head lowered. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Is it…" she paused to reconsider her phrasing. "Is it who I think you think it is?"

Ron laughed humorlessly. "Probably." He nodded. "It probably is. Which is only going to cause a whole new mess of trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"Look," Ron turned to face her, "I'm sorry to bother you with this. I didn't know who else to talk to. Harry and Parker, they…and Ginny…she…"

"It's alright." bernie soothed, lacing her fingers through his, not knowing how else to help him. "I'm a good listener."

"That's just it. I can't." His eyes searched hers beseechingly. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "I don't know what to say. Hell, I don't even know what I'm thinking. Everything up here," he tapped his temple, "is a jumbled up mess. Nothing makes any kind of sense."

"Maybe talking about it would help." She offered.

"Yeah." He shrugged, unconvinced. "Possibly."

"So?" she prompted when he didn't continue.

With a sigh Ron released her hand and stood up. He began pacing, his long strides taking him far away from her in only moments. He turned and made his way back. "I've come to the conclusion," he said after several passes, "that there's one place left to look. And if Blake's not there…"

Bern's tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Yes?"

Ron stopped pacing to look her dead in the eye. "What am I saying? I'll keep looking. I…" He waved his hand in front of him. "Really, it's irrelevant. I won't stop looking until I…until I know what happened to her. I might have to leave the Ministry to do it…but that's not important." He resumed pacing. "The real question is, what do I do if I find her?"

"Ron," Bernie shook her head. "I can't answer that for you."

"Why not?"

"Because, I can't."

Ron thrust his fingers through his hair. "I don't think I can give her up."

Bernie sat a little straighter in her seat. "Who?"

"Blake." He looked at her with one brow arched. "Who did you think we were talking about?"

"Blake, of course."

Ron nodded, continuing to pace. "I leave for Spain in two hours. And I'm torn." He stopped facing away from her. He gripped his hands behind his back. "I'm torn Bernie. Because a part of me… I really think I'm going to find her there."

"Then what are you still doing here?" She was on her feet behind him.

"If I find her," she watched the ball in his throat bob when he swallowed. "That means…"

"That Granger really did it." She finished knowingly.

Ron nodded.

"So what?" She waited for Ron to turn around. "So what if she did? That would mean she took a child out of the country illegally."

"Exactly."

"I'm sorry, Ron." She shrugged, lost. "I'm not following you."

"Like I said," he tapped his temple. "It's a mess up here."

Bernie's eyes narrowed when he looked away. "There's something you're not saying."

"No."

"Yes," she turned him by the arm to face her. "There is. What is it?"

"I can't." He shook his head.

"Ron," she said sternly.

"I can't." He pulled his arm away. "You'll think I'm a horrible person."

"No I won't."

"Really. Because a part of me hopes I don't find her there."

"You don't mean that."A fresh train pulled into the station, drawing the bodies that had gathered around them forward. People surged past Ron, sucking him towards the train as they moved forward to climb aboard.

Ron swayed with the crowd, letting them jostle his body aside but somehow still managing to make his way back to his place as the last of the travelers boarded and the train pulled away.

"I said a part of me. Not all of me." He defended.

"Same difference." Her hands were on his hips. "How could any part of you possibly want that? The well being or your _child_ is at stake."

Ron growled with frustration, gripping his hair again. "And that's why I couldn't talk to Harry or Ginny or Parker about this." He lowered his hands placing them on his chest. "Don't you think I know how horrible I am? Do you think it was easy for me to admit that to you? I know what kind of person that makes me. And I hate myself for it. But it's the truth and it's been eating away at me." He held her eyes, even as he lowered his face. He blinked twice and a tear fell, sliding off his chin and onto his shirt. He dashed at it with his sleeve even as another escaped and slid down the other cheek. "This shouldn't even be an issue. I should have never let her go. I should have committed murder before I let those two leave the room with her. And I should have gone to Spain a long time ago. But I couldn't believe that she would…" Ron bit painfully into his bottom lip. "I don't know what…What if everything I believed is wrong?"

"You're a smart man, Ron." She took a moment to measure her words. "I don't think you could have been fooled that easily."

"Bern," he looked past her shoulder. "What if I'm wrong again? What if I don't find her?"

"You will." She said firmly.

"Okay, so what if I do…What if she doesn't remember me?"

"What if she does?" she countered. "There's only one thing you need to worry about right now. You need to go to Spain. You need to go to Spain and you need to find Blake. You bring her _home. Then _you can sit down and work everything else out_."_

"Yeah." He nodded numbly. "You're right. Or course you're right." He brushed his hair back out of his eyes. He turned to watch the next train pull into the station, the screaming air centering him as he watched the next set of Muggles get ready to board. "Bern," he turned his face towards her. "Thank you. For listening and…"

She pressed her fingers to his mouth, silencing him. "Don't think anything of it." She moved her hand so it was resting against his cheek. She let her thumb run along the gentle ridge of his cheekbone, enjoying the way the pale skin heated and darkened under her touch.

Their eyes met for a moment before he looked away. He stepped back out of her reach. "I'm sorry." He stammered. "I have to go."

"Please," she stepped after him when he turned to walk away. "Don't…I'm sorry I…" He looked back, his blue eyes stopping her mid sentence. "Don't go."

"I have to meet Parker." He said in a rush. "Only…and…well, we have a lot left to do before we leave."

"Of course," she nodded, stepping back. "Go." She folded her hands in front. "I should probably…" she took a step back and turned.

The tall redhead cringed with guilt. "Bern,"

She looked over her shoulder.

He glanced down at his watch. "I don't have to go just yet." She turned a little more. "And it wouldn't be very nice of me to unburden myself and Ron off without giving you the chance to do the same."

A smile ticked at the girl's lips. "Sadly, I don't have anything to unburden you with."

"So, ask me a question. Something you want to know."

She crossed her arms over her stomach, head tilted slightly with intrigue. "Anything?"

Ron nodded. "Anything."

Bernie lifted a hand to her chin, stroking it softly in mock contemplation. "The underground?" She asked, looking around with curious eyes.

"What about it?" there was a note of surprised humor to his voice.

"Is this where you normally come to think?"

Ron shrugged, scratching at his head, smile growing. "People leave you alone down here. Wizards don't normally come this way and Muggles are in too much of a hurry to get where they're going to pay you much attention." He shrugged again. "I can be alone without being alone."

Bernie's head shook slowly from side to side. "You're little strange, Ronald Weasley. Did you know that?"

"And what are you? The standard form for normal?"

"Merlin, no." She laughed. "Far from it in fact. I've been told in the past that I'm quite mad."

Ron joined her in a moment's laughter, but soon they were both quiet. Contemplative. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"Going after her?"

He nodded.

"Of course I do."

"Even if it means getting Herm…"

"Yes," she said even the more adamant. "You have to do what's right for you…Always."

Ron nodded. "Alright. Then I should probably go."

Bernie nodded as well. "You should. Ron," she reached for him before he could walk away, putting a hand on his arm. "I…" Her eyes searched his a moment before they disappeared behind her lowered lashes. "I just want to wish you all the best." She reached up and straightened the color of his shirt. "You'll let me know what happens, won't you?"

"As if you won't find out along with everyone else."

"Before everyone else." She lifted her eyes to his. "I'd like to hear what happens from you."

* * *

Thomas leaned forward, his head buried in his hands, emotionally reeling inside. He opened his eyes and looked down at the transportation orders spread out in front of him. In four days he would be transferring prisoner SF6896s to the Ministry. She would be going to trial against charges of kidnapping

In just a few minutes Hermione Granger's Legal Representation would arrive and he would escort the both of them to a meeting room, specifically designed for such a meeting, and they would get to _strategizing_. Who was he kidding? They wouldn't be strategizing. They would be scrambling for a miracle. And unfortunately, miracles were in short supply at the moment. Especially for Hermione Granger.

Four days? Thomas scowled at the order, crumpling it in his hand. It was ludicrous. How was anyone supposed to put together a case that had something close to a fighting chance in only four days?

The answer was simple. They couldn't. This trial could not be won in only four days of preparation. It was sabotage. Pure and simple. Thomas had no trouble recognize the situation for what it was. Hermione Granger was a victim of Jillian Oldham and her political allies. He'd seen Curan Shaw's name attached to Jillian Oldham's too many times not to recognize it for what it was.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a crime for an Auror to befriend a clerk for the Wizengaumont. Even less fortunate, it would be impossible to prove that Oldham had used that friendship to call in a favor. The only consolation he could take out of the situation was that Oldham hadn't managed to become friends with one of the Officials. If she had he imagined a lot more people would have gone straight to jail without a trial.

"Captain?" The door creaked open slightly. Thomas turned his head in time to see one of his men poke his head inside. "Captain. I thought I would tell you, Granger's Legal Representation is here. I'll show them back and…"

"No" Thomas threw aside the Order before pushing back his seat. "I'll take care of it."

"No… Really, Sir." He protested. "I can do it."

"No." Thomas narrowed his eyes as he pushed up from his seat. "That's alright." He said firmly, his look telling the other man to step down. "I've got it I have a few things I'd like to discuss with them before they meet her." He to the door before the guard could offer another protest. He maneuvered around the younger man and stepped from his office into the hallway.

His feet rooted to the floor just outside the door, his eyes going wide. He sucked in a harsh breath. "Asnath."

The guard leaned in towards Thomas. "I told you I would handle this, Sir." He said apologetically.

The two women standing in the hall turned to face him simultaneously, as if they were one unit moving seamlessly together. "Good afternoon, Thomas." The first said, bobbing her head curtly. "How've you been?"

It took Thomas a moment, but he ducked his head in return. "Asnath… It's been a long time."

The woman tilted her head to one side, a few of her mahogany tresses escaping the bun she had them pulled back in. With a quick, familiar flip of her wrist, she had them tucked behind her ear. Her eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on him. "Not long enough I see."

"As you say." Thomas forced an unnatural smile on his face. "Hello." He said turning from her to the woman standing just slightly behind her. "My name is Thomas Pane." He extended his hand.

"My assistant." Asnath motioned dismissively toward the other woman. "Ramilda Vane."

"Ms Vane." Thomas made a point of taking her hand and holding it a moment longer then was necessary. "I trust your journey out to the island wasn't too terrible?"

Ramilda's eyes darted quickly from his toes and back up, taking in the total affect of his appearance in a glance. "No," her hand firmed subtly around his fingers as she tilted up her face to flash him an intriguing smile. "Not too terrible. I am rather chilled though. How do you manage to keep warm out here?" Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip.

From the corner of his eye Thomas saw something spark in Asnath's eyes. He had to turn his head the slightest to hide his smirk of satisfaction. "Charms, Ms Vane. Many, many warming charms." He held onto her hand a moment longer, waiting to see if Asnath's jaw would stiffen, a sure sign she was getting annoyed. When he saw the subtle tensing he released Ramilda's hand and stepped back. "If you'll just come with me?" He indicated they should follow before he turned and made his way towards the other end of the hall, not bothering to wait and see if Asnath was following but making sure to match his pace with that of Ms Vanes.

"As you can imagine," he said, looking at Ramilda but directing his comments to Asnath, "Under normal circumstance I would already have Ms Granger waiting for you in the meeting room. But seeing I only received word you were coming a short while ago…"

"I only just received word today myself." Asnath cut in sharply, "Or, I assure you, I would have been here earlier."

Thomas stopped and turned to face her, surprised. He could hear the genuine frustration in the tenor of her voice. "Is that so?"

Asnath sighed at the question she saw on his face. "You're a man of the law, Thomas. Surely you can't be oblivious to the complex workings of the Judicial System."

Rather than respond with words he nodded.

"Then you have to be aware…four days?" She jabbed fingers into her hair, letting more strands accidently lose from the rest. "How the hell am I supposed to put a case together in four days?" More hair fell into her face and she pushed it back with a frustrated growl. "This is a high profile case. If I lose this it will ruin my career."

"Ah…" He nodded mockingly. "Of course." He turned away. "I should have known your career is what you'd be worried the most about."

Asnath hurried her pace to catch up to him while Ramilda, feeling uncomfortable and awkward, slowed hers to fall behind. "Thomas," she reached for his arm, pulling him back. "This is my _career_. I've worked very hard to get where I am." She gave his arm another hard tug when he didn't turn. "Why can't you understand that?" She asked in a lowered voice.

Thomas let out his breath in a low heavy sigh. "It's always about your career, Asnath." He glanced up to her eyes. "Always." He shook her hand off and kept walking. "Have you stopped to think what it will cost Hermione if you lose?"

"Hermione?" She asked, surprised, one brow arched high on her head.

"Yes, Hermione. Hermione Granger. The women you're defending."

"I know who she is, thank you. I'm only surprised. I didn't realize you were on first name bases with your inmates."

"Does that bother you?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Good. As I was saying, Hermione has more at stake in this trial than her career. Her entire life depends on the outcome of this trial. So it would be appreciated if you kept that in mind as well."

Asnath squared his shoulders fiercely. "I'm not unaware of the consequences this case will have on Ms Granger's life. Thank you."

"Excellent. I'm glad to hear that. For a moment there I was worried you'd gotten into the profession for all the wrong reasons." He turned and continued walking.

"And what is _so_ wrong about being concerned with what happens to my career?" She quickened her step to catch up to him. "I've sacrificed a lot to get where I am."

Thomas snorted. "As if I wasn't aware of that."

"You resent my success, don't you?"

"No."

"Of course you do. You always have."

"No." He spun suddenly around, pointing his finger at her. "I don't resent your success. I never have."

"Then what? What?"

He stared at her quietly for a moment longer before shaking his head. "Asnath, the fact that you still don't know means absolutely nothing's changed and it isn't worth my time to explain."

"I hate it when you do that, Thomas." Asnath snarled.

"Yeah well," he shrugged. "There are a lot of things you do that I hate as well. It's nice to know that we're finally on the same page. Ms Vane." He called, cutting off the conversation. "Have you, by chance, learned how to cast a Patronus?"

Ramilda hesitated for a moment before hurrying her step to catch up with the two.

"Yes." She nodded. "Of course."

"Then I suggest you do so. There's only one guard patrolling this floor but I find it best to protect yourself. Just in case."

Pulling his wand from his pocket, he cast the charm while Ramilda and Asnath struggled to do the same.

Satisfied that their Patronuses were strong enough to hold, he nodded and motioned them to follow. "Ms Granger's cell is on the way to the interview rooms. We'll retriever her on our way."

He used his wand to open a door that was large and heavy, battered with age and splintered from the harsh sea air.

The door eased open and a draft of chilled air swept out, seeping through their clothes as it escaped into the warm hallway. "This is where all our low security prisoners are kept. It might interest you to know that if you'd come a week ago I would have been forced to have you wait in the conference room while I went and escorted Ms Granger down."

"Why is that?" Ramilda asked, her genuine curiosity enough to dispel the awkwardness still lingering from the scene between the two back in the other hallway.

"Because up until a few days ago Captain Oldham of the Beta squad had Ms Granger placed under the highest amount of security available."

"Really?" One brow arched high on Asnath's brow.

He nodded.

"Huhh…that's interesting."

"I thought you'd think so."

"What? Why? Why is that so interesting?"

Asnath turned to her assistant. "The prisoners held in top security are the most dangerous witches and wizards captured by the Ministry. They're guarded by several Dementors around the clock in order to incapacitate them so that they're not a danger to themselves or the guards who watch them. Most of them lose their mind within the first week." She turned back to Thomas. "Why would she do that?"

"She wanted a confession."

"And she got one."

"Of course she did." Thomas glanced between the butterfly fluttering around Ramilda's head and the cat slinking alongside Asnath. "The Dementors on that floor are mean, blighters. You've both managed Corpral Patronuses, but they're not very firm. They wouldn't 've survive long against one of the more focused Dementors on that floor." He watched the butterfly flutter past him. "Trust me."

He turned and stepped through another door. "For the love of…" His steps picked up sudenly. "Not again. Oi," thrust his wand forward, sending his Great Dane leaping forward, charging the Dementor standing solitary in front of a single door. "I told you to leave her alone." The Dementor slunk back from the door. "There's plenty of other prisoners on this floor to feed from. Lay off her a while." The Great Dane growled as it stocked the Dementor further down the hall, snapping at it until it turned and glided away, slinking to the other end in search, no doubt, of another victim to focus its attention on until it could return to its preferred source.

"Hermione?" Thomas hurried to the cleared door, stopping at the window, hazarding a glance through the small portal, knowing before he looked what he would find.

She was curled in a familiar ball on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking. "He's not coming back. Never coming back. Disease. That's what I am. Disease. Nothing but heartache. Never coming back."

"Hermione."

Her eyes flew up to his. They sparkled, heavy with tears in the dim light. She blinked and one escaped down her face. "He'll never forgive me, will he? She was right? He's not coming back." There was a note of hysteria in her voice. "I ruined everything!"

Thomas sprung open the door and hurried into the cell. "You don't know that." He stopped in front of her, lowering himself to his haunches. "He'll come for you."

"He won't." Hermione shook her head. "I broke him. I broke his heart. I promised not to do that I again. I promised. I gave my word."

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"He won't." Her head continued to shake. "He won't. I'm a disease. I don't deserve him. I don't. Nothing but heartache. They all hate me. And who can blame them?"

"Hermione, please." He rested a hand on her arm. "You have to focus." He gave her a gentle shake. "There's two people here to see you."

Hermione's head snapped up. "Ron? Harry?" She looked wildly past Thomas, eyes bright with hope. He could tell the moment she spotted Ramilda and Asnath standing in the doorway. The sparkle that had leapt into her eyes instantly vanished.

"No." Thomas shook his head, reaching instinctively to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder while she ducked her head, tucking her shoulders up around her ears. "Not Ron and Harry. Not this time." He turned slightly to face the two women. Romilda had a hand over her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears of shock and horror. Asnath's eyes were wide as well but in the dim light Thomas couldn't tell if it was out of shock or revulsion. He knew from experience Asnath detested weakness in anyone, most especially herself. "This is Romilda Vane and Asnath Aumerile." He said, deciding not to press the issue.

"Ms Granger," Romilda chocked back a cry as she took a step forward. "Ms Granger, Hermione…I…Merlin…What's happened to you?"

Hermione stared at her through her dulled eyes. "Romilda." She bit at her bottom lip, easily breaking open the flesh. Her eyes noticed, tearing up, as she tried and force her brain focus. She pushed her mess of hair back out of her face, scrubbing at her cheek with her sleeve in the process. "Romilda." She said te girls name again, as if to reaffirm that she knew her. "What are you doing here?"

"I've…I'm here…I…"

"She's come as my assistant." Asnath said, striding forward, hand extended. "I've been assigned as your legal representation."

Hermione stared at the proffered hand for a moment as if she couldn't quite remember what it was she was supposed to do with it. "My legal representation?" She finally asked, ignoring the hand and looking past it to the beautiful face looking down at her from so high.

"That's right." Asnath lowered her arm. "Unfortunately for you, your trial's been set to begin in four days, which doesn't give us much time to prepare. So we need to get started straight away. Romilda," she nodded her head toward the open floor. "A table and chairs. You can leave Thomas, here is fine."

"Here is not fine." He crossed his arms in front of his chest making sure his wand lay predominantly across his bicep. "I'm not leaving you three here alone, easy targets for when that Dementor comes back."

"You know," Asnath spun around, wand gripped conspicuously in hand. "I find it rather insulting that you don't think Ramilda or myself capable of fending off one lousy Dementor."

"You and Ms Vane aren't the ones I'm worried about. You can easily withstand one Dementor encounter, Asnath. Hermione on the other hand…" He looked down at the woman still curled up on the floor. "All you have to do is look at her." He shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

Asnath's mouth turned up in a sneer. "I promise, I won't let anything happen to _Hermione_ while I am here. You may go."

"And I'm telling you no. Hermione…" He waited for her to respond. "Hermione?" He said a bit louder. She was still looking up at Asnath, her eyes determinedly focused.

"They sent you?" She ignored Romilda who had made her way to Hermione's side and was trying to help her to her feet. "They sent _you_ to represent _me_?" The dead weight of Hermione's arm slipped from Ramilda's grasp, landing painfully on her knee.

Asnath set her satchel down on the table Ramilda had conjured. "Yes, Ms Granger. They did."

Hermione stared for a moment loner before a snort escaped her lips. Eyes wide she clasped a hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to force back her deranged laughter. "They sent you? Of all the people in their employment, they had to send _you_."

Asnath bristled. "I don't see what's so funny?"

Hermione continued to laugh. "Of course you wouldn't, would you?"

"Ms Granger, please…" Ramilda was crouched down to her level. "Come and sit in the chair. Ms Aumerile is really very good. Let her help you."

"Help me?" Hermione turned her head until her face was just a few inches from Ramilda's face. "They expect me to let the woman who _replaced me_ to be my legal representation?" She cackled again. "And he thinks I'm losing my mind?" She jabbed her thumb at Thomas.

Thomas's head jerked to the side. He took an automatic step towards Asnath. "You took her job?"

"There was an opening."

His mouth gapped open and closed several times as he tried to find the words. He settled for. "You're unbelievable."

"What? You expected me to turn them down? She's the reason I didn't get the job to begin with. It should have been mine all along."

"And I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job representing her, under the circumstances."

"Oh please." Asnath snorted. "As if that has any bearing on the matter. Even if I do manage to get her cleared they'll never offer her her job back. She's damaged her reputation too thoroughly. Besides, as I told you, this is a high profile case. It could very well make my career."

"And that's all that matters to you? That's all that's ever mattered to you."

"Well," she lifted her chin pointedly, "It's not like I have much else going for me anymore. Do I?"

"No." He agreed. "It doesn't look like you do."

For a moment it looked like Asnath would say something more, instead she made a point of turning, giving Thomas her back. "As I was saying, we have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time in which to do it. So if you'll please take a seat in one of the chairs, we'll get started."

Hermione's laughter had died away, morphing into strangled sobs. "Am I so despised, that…that they had to send you?"

"Hermione," Ramilda tried to pull her to her feet again.

"What's the point?" Hermione jerked her arm free. "Everyone hates me."

Romilda paused a moment. "I don't."

"Give it time," she said mirthlessly, "you will."

"Despite what you apparently believe, Ms Granger," Asnath took several steps until she was standing just in front of the two women crouched on the floor. "I was assigned as your representation because I was the newest member of the staff which meant I was the only person unbiased enough to handle the case." She pushed her hair back behind her ear. "No emotional attachment. Which I thought was utterly ridiculous. But…Just because they can't hire you back doesn't mean they don't want to. As for Ron and Harry and whoever else you might think hates you, they don't really matter. None of that matters right now. Because the truth is, if we don't get your name cleared, you won't be able to do anything about anyway. Until your trial is over nothing is going to matter beyond getting your name cleared. Now, will you please try and focus? As you well know, I can only help you as much as you help me."

"I'm perfectly capable of handling my own case."

"And I'm sure you would do an admirable job." Asnath pulled a stack of papers out of her bag and dropped them on the table. She turned and sat on the edge of the table, her hands braced on either side of her body as she leaned forward. "But everyone needs a little help every once and again. As it is, I'm sure you know as well as I do, that's it's nice to have someone there to back you up on a difficult case. It's reassuring to have someone standing beside you, ready to take over if you fumble." Her face softened with a brief glimpse of sadness. She glanced at Thomas. "Someone to help you stay strong when it feels like your whole world is crashing down."

Shifting uncomfortably, Thomas looked away.

Hermione nodded slowly, fresh tears springing from her eyes.

"Alright." Asnath straightened, her chin once again firmly set, her shoulders squared. We'll just do that for each other for a little while. Alright?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Alright. Ramilda," Asnath tipped her head toward Hermione. "Now let's talk about this confession Oldham managed to get out of you and more importantly, the circumstances surrounding how she obtained it."

* * *

"Would you please stop fidgeting?" Ginny growled under her breath, putting a hand firmly on Harry's thigh in a vain attempt to keep him still.

"Where is he?" He craned his neck around in the other direction. "He should be here for this."

"I don't even understand why we're here. Don't get me wrong," she said at Harry's look of disbelief. "It will be very satisfying to watch those two be carted away to Azkaban. But still." She looked around the crowded room. "I don't understand why we both had to be here."

"I told you. To support Ron."

"Who isn't even here." Ginny stared at him pointedly. "So why do I have to be? I need to feed Bry soon." She shifted uncomfortably, "And I'm sure Si's done a great job demolishing mum's house by now. Not to mention, I'm tired."

Harry sighed heavily, putting his arm over the back of Ginny's seating, resting it around her shoulders. "I'm sure it will only be a few more minutes."

"You said that half hour ago."

"I don't know what's taking him so long. Hermione did a great job putting this case together."

He could feel Ginny tense under his arm.

"Come on Ginny," Harry pulled away enough to look at her. "You might not like her very much right now, but you have to admit she's good at what she does."

"I don't have to admit anything." She said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

"You're right." He pulled his arm out from behind her, trying to mask his disapproval but failing. "You don't." He turned forward, hands clasped together, arms braced on his knees. "Why don't you go? I'll let you know what happens."

"Don't," Ginny shook her head. "Don't you do that to me, Harry." She took a calming breath. "Don't you look at me like that." She sad low enough for only him to hear.

He sat back. "I just don't understand why you can't even entertain…"

"I don't want to have this argument again. Especially not here." She said significantly.

"That's just it, Gin. You never want to have this conversation."

"And why do you think that is?" Her eyes glistened. "Do you think this is easy for me?" She held a hand for her breast. "Do you think I _like_ having to make this choice?"

"You don't have to."

"Yes Harry, I do. I know it's hard for you to understand. You didn't grow up in a normal family. You don't have any siblings. My loyalty is always going to be to them." She shrugged gravely. "It has to be. You saw what the rift between Percy and Dad did to the family. I can't let that happen again. To any of us."

"Ginny," Harry turned in his seat to face her. "That's not going to happen."

"It already is. Look at Ron. He doesn't come around."

"He's hurting. He'll come back when he's ready."

"I won't give him any more reason to stay away." Her fingers curled against her thighs. "I am… so mad at her. Not only because of what she said to him. What she did…" She ducked her face, hiding her face with her hair. "But because of what she did to me. She was supposed to be my best friend and… how could she put me in this situation? She promised me. She promised me, Harry. And she broke it. She broke it."

"Gin," Harry wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into the circle of his arms, not caring that they were sitting in the middle of a crowded courtroom.

"Do you have any idea," her voice trembled, "how infuriating it is to have the person you want to vent to be the person you're mad at?"

He ran a hand tenderly along the ridge of her back. "You could always vent to me."

Her head shook against his chest. "That won't work."

"Why not? I'm your husband."

"It's not the same. You're not Hermione. Plus," she rubbed at the tip of her nose, "you're one third of the reason I need to vent."

"I see." He said uncertainly.

"Besides, I already tell you everything I would have told her. It just helps me to get it off my chest a second time." She used her hands for emphasis.

"So, what is it you're really mad at?"

Ginny's eyes darted around between different points in the room as she thought. "Everything."

"Right," he said sternly. "Well… I can't do much about everything. But I can promise this whole mess with Blake and Ron and Hermione will be over soon."

"You can't know that."

"We'll see." He said knowingly.

"What?" Before she could question him further the door at the front of the courtroom opened and the murmur of the crowd surrounding them died away as the Ministry Official reentered. Ginny pulled back a little from Harry so that she could turn in the circle of his arms and face front. She kept he head close to his chest, resting it lightly on his shoulder.

Up in front Paroles Pompey, the official residing over the trial, was still standing. He made quick work of scanning the room, seemingly in search of someone, his frown indicating the person he searched for wasn't there. He bent forward and said something to his clerk who shook their head in response. He scanned the room one last time, his eyes pausing momentarily on Harry before they finished the sweep.

"I'm ready to give my sentence." He said as he took his seat, turning the chair so he faced forward. "This case is very straight forward." He focused his attention to the two people sitting stonily behind the defendant's desk. "Carbonell and Melantha Javed," The couple rose to their feet; Carbonell defiantly, Melantha trembling as she clutched her husband's hand. "The evidence brought against you is overwhelming. I find you guilty of all charges." He said almost brightly. "Furthermore, I'm sentencing you both to two consecutive life sentences to be carried out back to back. I want to make sure you two are never free to cause anymore pain and havoc. All of your remaining assets have been seized by the Ministry to be distributed at a later date in a manner the court deems fit. I hope that's all clear. Now," he shuffled a stack of parchment on his desk until he found the one he was looking for, ignoring Melantha collapsing into her husband' s arms, sobbing. "That being said, it's been brought to my attention," he snapped his wrist, spreading the parchment open to read in front of his eyes, "that the child you were granted custody of, a situation I can't even begin to understand, has gone missing." He lowered the parchment to look over the top at them. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me about that?"

Carbonell stared at the judge, his face stoic. Melantha continued to sob.

"I wouldn't be above reducing your sentence for information leading to the child's recovery."

Carbonell's face turned up in an ugly sneer. "I would rather rot in jail for the next two hundred years than help Weasley find that child. I hope she's dead." He spat at the floor before turning his back on the judge.

"Very well." Pompey motioned the guards standing off to the side forward. "Take the prisoners away."

"Carbonell." Melantha clung to her husband's robes when the guards tried to pull them apart. "No! Get your hands off me! Carbonell!" She shrieked when her arms were magiced behind her back and bound with a rope of silver magic. "Carbonell, no! No! Don't let them take me!"

"Melantha. Melantha." He raised his voice to be heard above hers. "Be strong. They can't keep us forever."

"Carbonell." She sobbed, struggling to get to him.

"Enough of this." The guard struggling to hold on to her growled. He jabbed his wand at her throat and cast a quick Silencio. "What?" He shrugged at the other guard. "She was hurting my ears."

"Would you kindly get those two out of my court?" Pompey asked, shuffling the parchment around on his desk indifferently. "I have more business to attend to."

"Straight away, Sir." Said the guard handling Carbonell. "Come on you," he jerked on the prisoner's robes. "I have a nice dark cell waiting with your name on it."

The two were led through the side doors which closed the moment they stepped through, blocking their retreat from view.

"Now," Pompey said, bringing the focus in the room back to him. "There are a few more matters to discus." He flicked through the remaining parchment until he found what he was looking for. "First off, the child in question. According to these files," he indicated the ones in his hand with a nod, "Captain Ronald Bilius Weasley filed for custody of Blake Kinley…_Weasley_?" He looked up, his face wide with surprise. "Her last name is Weasley and custody was given to those two?" He shook his head with disgust. "What a mess." He was quiet for a moment as he continued to read. "I see here," he lifted the parchment closer to his face, that Triaquin Ceemist presided over that hearing." He ran his tongue over his teeth a few times. He lowered the paper to the table, his face riddled with disgust. His tongue clicked off his teeth. "What I would like to know first, is how Carbonell and Melantha Javed were allowed to leave that courtroom with that child in their possession in the first place? She went missing in less than twenty-four hours. Did no one else see the inevitability of that happening? Not only that, why did no one question the sentencing immediately? There should never have been an opportunity for that child to go missing. This is appalling. Captain Potter," Pompey's eyes focused on Harry. "You were present in the courtroom the day of the hearing, were you not?"

Harry rose to his feet. "Yes your honor." He stammered. "I was."

"Why didn't you do anything to stop them?"

"Sir?"

"Never mind. Never mind. Messy business." He grumbled, waving off the question with his hand. "I'm sure you felt bound by the law, though clearly laws were being broken right in front of you. But that's neither here nor there." He grumbled with aggravation. "Captain Potter, I understand that Jillian Oldham has been temporarily removed from her position as Captain of the Betas?"

"Yes Sir."

"Perhaps you can answer a few questions for me in her place."

Harry nodded.

"To the best of your knowledge, have the Betas gotten any closer to discovering the location of the child in question?"

"No, Sir. Not that I am aware of."

"Right. I've also been informed that you've personally gone to Hogwarts and checked the register and can say without any doubt that the child _is_ in fact still alive?"

"Yes, Sir. I can."

"And why is it the register can't be used to locate her?"

"Sir, that book…It's been enchanted to perform the same task for well over… well, since the founders started recruiting students to attend Hogwarts. Not only that, it's a historical artifact. To tamper with the integrity of its magic and…"

"Very well, very well." He waved Harry off.

"If there were any way,"

"I'm sure you would have found it already." Pompey rubbed wearily at his face. "Right then." He dropped his hand to the desk top where he clasped it with the other hand. "This is a very strange predicament we've found ourselves in. I'm inclined to believe that there is no point in appointing guardianship to a child no one seems to know the current location of… But I've been instructed to see it done. In any case, I'm also inclined to believe that perhaps assigning guardianship, in this instance, is precisely the incentive we need for the child to be found." He arched a significant brow in Harry's direction. "I'm granting Captain Weasley's petition. Pending the child's return, I grant full custody of Blake Kinley Werasley to her father Captain Ronald Bilius Weasley. I would have liked to deliver the news to him personally…but I'll assume the reason he's not here is that he's out now, at this very moment, trying to locate her." He leaned forward in his seat, ensuring he had Harry's full attention. "You make sure to have him come in and sign the papers to make everything nice and legal as soon as he can be located."

"Yes Sir." Harry nodded, struggling to hide his satisfied smile.

"With that, Court is adjourned." Pompey wasted no time. He was on his feet and out his door before the room had a chance to react.

"Harry." Ginny clutched at his sleeve, using it as leverage to help her to her feet. "Did what I think just happen, really just happen?"

Harry turned to her, his smile growing broader. With a shout of joy he swooped down and kissed her full on the lips, stealing her breath away. "Yes, Gin. It did." He kissed her again, headless of the crowd surrounding them. He clasped her tighter, arms weaving around her and drawing her in. With a moan Ginny surrendered, leaning into the kiss, letting her mouth fall open under his.

Harry's fingers wove through her hair, holding her to him a moment longer before gently pulling away. He kissed her again, combing her hair off her face tenderly with his hands. "I have to go." He kissed her one last time before stepping back.

"What?" Ginny gapped at him in surprise. "Harry?" She grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back. "What do you mean," she lowered her voice to a hiss, "you have to go?"

"There's something I have to do."

"Harry, now isn't the time."

"Now is exactly the time." He cupped her face tenderly. "I'll see you at home, yeah?"

And he was gone.

"Harry!" she called after him futilely. "What?" She looked around puzzled. "What was that about?" she asked under her breath. She let herself get led into the isle by the crowd milling towards the door.

She could not understand where Harry had gone to. He should be with her. Now was the time to…well not celebrate, per say…"Unless…" she drifted to a stop. Unless he'd gone to find Ron and share with him the news. Ginny thought for a moment longer before nodding, satisfied. That had to be it. He was probably sending Ron an owl or tracking him down himself to tell him. He would want Ron to know right away.

Ginny bounced back into step. This might just be the good news Ron needed to lift himself up. Knowing Blake was really his might just be what he needed to find her. And once he did he wouldn't even think about giving her up. How could he? He would bring her home and everything would go back to normal. Back to the way it should have been.

The smile slid from her face. But that wasn't true. Things wouldn't go back to the way they were because even with Blake home, Ron would still be heartbroken… And so would she. Her heart was broken in the way only one best friend could break another's.

She let herself wallow for a moment before physically shaking herself. Everything would be fine. She had to believe that. Ron would get over Hermione and she, she would find herself a new best friend. Decision made, Ginny marched forward into the lift, turning and watching the golden grill close with a small amount of satisfaction.


	29. All Roads Lead to Madrid

So, I'm going to ask the same thing I did on Facebook. Do any of you have any suggestions of a way to grow a harder spine. Any exercises that might help. Because recently I've learned that I'm not very good at saying no to my boss when she asks me to pick up extra shifts. I already work some of the worst hours in existance in a job that drains me emotionally and physically and I know that I need my days off to recooperate, but I just can't seem to bring myself to say no. So, if anyone has any suggestions on how I can do that, let me know. It would help me move this process along much faster. My work hours, and the draining nature of my job, are the largest contributers to how long it's taken me to update. When I get home at 10, 11 o'clock at night I just don't have the mental energy most days to sit and write. But I have a deadline for a new job. I am supposed to be starting writing classes in May, creative writing classes, I'm so excited, so I have to have a new job with regular hours by then. Any suggestions about how I go about doing that as well? Anyway, if it gets to be a long time between now and my next update, please remind me. It really does help, I have a very guilty conscience. Use it to your advantage.

Hope you all enjoy this next chapter and that your all well and not to sick from the terrible weather I think we've all been having, Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine: All Roads Lead to Madrid

The sun was just peaking over the horizon, staining the edge of the world in a soft pink hue. Across the room the minute hand lurched onto the twelve and the little hammer on the top ricocheted back and forth between two bells.

A pale freckled hand reached out from beneath a layer of blankets, grasped about blindly on the bedside table until it found the shaft of wand it was looking for. Accompanying a yawn, the wand jabbed towards the clock, silencing it before its gear ran out and it stopped ringing on its own.

Moaning unhappily, Fred dropped his wand before turning onto his side. Still half asleep he reached out to wrap his arm around Beila's waist, ready to snuggle up behind her for a few more minutes sleep. His eyes flew open when his arm went through his expected destination and landed against the empty mattress.

Wearily, Fred lifted his head to look around. Beila's dressing gown was gone, the door closed. Groaning, he turned onto his stomach, pressing his face into her pillow. Once. Just once, he wanted to wake up in the morning to find her still in bed.

Pounding his fist into the pillow he pushed his upper body off the bed, glancing out the window a moment before he flipped over. Slowly he swung his legs out over the side, than tipped his body up into a sitting position. Yawning, he rubbed at his eyes, massaging his face a moment before reaching for the shirt he had warn to bed the night before. He gave it one good flick to try and relax some of the wrinkles that might have set over the night, and pulled it on over his head. His bottoms came on next.

Rubbing his hand through his hair, he stood up. He padded across the room in his bare feet and pulled open the door. He paused just a moment, listening for the familiar sound of crying. The hall was silent.

Stretching his back while he walked, he made his way down the hall to the first door off the landing. Bracing himself, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. Beila's head shot up, warning in her eyes. He stepped into the room, closing the door as softly as he could behind him.

"She asleep?" He whispered, nodding to the child lying heavily against Beila's chest.

The woman nodded slowly. "_SÍ_. Just now."

Fred stepped lightly to her side, bending over to press a kiss to her upturned lips. "I thought it was my turn."

"Está bien. I do not mind." She looked down at the child, carefully running her fingers through the strands of Blake's black hair. "I have for so long."

"Yeah, but I do." He crouched down so he was at her level. He tenderly traced the dark circles that shadowed her eyes. "You don't get enough sleep."

One dark brow arched suggestively. "Why is that?" The hand that rested on Blake's head reached across the small distance separating them and rested on his cheek, drawing his face closer. "Who had me awake half of last night?"

A satisfied smile tickled at Fred's lips, revealing the white of his teeth. He turned his face quickly and kissed the palm of her hand. "I didn't hear any complaints from you."

"_NO_. You would not."

Fred bent forward to kiss her one last time before he straightened to his full height. "Here," he held out his hands. "Give her to me. Go get ready for work."

She nodded slowly. Placing her hand gently on the back of Blake's neck. She eased the child away from her chest, repositioning her gently so Fred could take her easily, placing her comfortably against his chest.

Rocking the chair forward, Beila moved fluidly from sitting to standing. She put a hand on his shoulder for balance as she rose onto her toes and kissed him tenderly at the corner of his mouth. "_Gracias_."

"Beila." Fred stopped her when she was at the door. "Tonight I get up with Blake."

She smiled softly. "We will see."

Stifling a yawn she moved to the door. Stretching her neck to the side, she twisted the handle of the door and pulled. As soon as the door left the frame the room flooded with a persistent, heavy pounding coming from the floor below.

Fred instantly put a hand over Blake's ear, trying to block out the sound, as Beila turned back to face him, eyes wide with dread. "¿Quién puede ser?...Who…?"

"I'm sure it's nothing." Fred assured, taking a step toward the door.

"_NO._" She put up her hands to hold him off. "I will go."

"Beila…"

"This is _my_ home." She said meaningfully. "Who knows you are here? _I _will go."

Fred hesitated a moment, his logic warring with his overwhelming need to protect her. "Do you have your wand?"

She nodded, patting her pocket. "Always."

Fred strode briskly to the cot, already moving Blake off his shoulder so he could lay her down. "I'll be waiting at the top of the stairs." He assured.

The pounding below grew louder, more persistent.

Beila shook her head. "I am sure it is nothing."

Fred straightened with a turn, his wand already in hand. "I'll be waiting at the top of the stairs." He said again, the set of his chin and the hard gleam in his eyes leaving no room for argument.

"Merlin ayudame." She sighed. She took a shallow breath, letting it both in and out before she warned. "Do not be seen." She pointed a finger at him. The knocking quickened. Giving Fred one last warning look, she turned and rushed from the room. By the time she reached the top of the stairs the person on the other side of the door was pounding, seemingly with all of their might. Quickening her pace, Beila practically flew down the rest of steps. "¿Quién es?"

"Beila," Came a familiar voice. "Beila, let me in."

She paused, hand resting on the door. "Harry?" She glanced back to see Fred already descending the steps.

"Yes, Harry." He snapped. "Would you just open the damn door?"

"SÍ. SÍ" She threw back the locks and wrenched the door open. "Harry," her eyes narrowed at seeing the panic on his face. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" He pushed past her. "Why am I here?" He whirled around to face them the moment the door was closed. "I'm here because I wasted several hours yesterday trying to reach you by floo. Where have you two been? And why didn't you answer the door."

Beila flushed apologetically. "Blake, she was crying. I did not want to wake Fred."

"Never mind that." Harry growled, slashing his hand through the air. "We don't have the time."

"They figured it out?" Fred asked, instantly at Beila's side, wrapping an arm around her, drawing her close.

Harry nodded once. "Jillian Oldham is here, in the city. It's only a matter of time before she comes knocking at your door."

Fred tensed, his arm squeezing Beila closer. "What do we do?"

Harry bit the inside of his cheek a moment before he answered. "It's time for Beial to bring Blake home."

"Qué?" Beila's eyes widened. "_NO_. It's too soon. Hermione, she…"

"It's alright," Harry said, laying his hands reassuringly on her shoulders. "It's over. The trial. The Javeds are in prison and Ron," a smile of relief cracked through his mask of panic. "Ron's been granted custody."

Beila stared at him a moment, eyes searching. Breath held. "It is over?"

Harry nodded. "It's safe to bring her home now."

"And Hermione?"

The smile dissolved slowly into a frown. Harry lowered his head, shoulders sagging slightly forward. "I haven't quite figured that one out yet."

Beila's eyes closed. She turned into Fred's arms, burrowing her face into his chest.

Harry thrust his fingers angrily through his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. "I'm just hoping charges will be dropped when Blake is… _found_ back in England. Safe and sound. If things work to plan, the Ministry will come to the conclusion that Hermione couldn't possibly have orchestrated Blake's return while in Azkaban without them knowing. Which would mean…"

"She did not do it." Beila finished.

Harry nodded, pointing at her. "Exactly."

Fred ran a soothing hand over Beila's back. "And what if," he turned to Harry, "they figure out it was you? Or me? Or Beila? And that's how she did it?"

"I don't think you or Beila have to worry about that. If they're going to catch anyone helping Hermione, it'll most likely be me. I was the last person to talk to her, after all. And Jillian knows Hermione passed me a secret message, so…"

"But you expect Beila to bring her back?"

"Yes." Harry turned to face Fred full on. "The Ministry doesn't know she's involved." He explained. "They won't know to look for her. And the Muggle authorities aren't aware of the situation so they're not looking for Beila or Blake. We'll alter their appearance like Hermione did for the journey here. She'll be out of the country before anyone even thinks to look for her. Like I said, if anyone is going to get in to trouble for this ,it's me." Harry shrugged. "But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. We can't worry about it right now. Right now we have to get Blake out of here."

He looked around the room as if he expected to see her sitting in one of the corners.

"Where is she?"

"Her room." Beila said, nodding towards the stairs.

"Right," Harry stepped past her, hurrying to the bottom of the steps and bounding up. "Here's the plan," he said when he reached the top. "I've already bought you return tickets to London. It leaves in little over an hour. I've hired a cab to be here at the half hour. That gives us," he glanced at his watch, roughly fifteen minutes to get you and Blake ready for the trip. Pack some overnight things for the both of you." He turned at Blake's door to look back at Beila. "When you get to London, you know what to do?"

Beila nodded, her face trembling slightly. "Follow the plan Hermione told me."

"Exactly." He turned the handle behind him. "Fred and I will stay and clear all traces of her ever being here. If someone does come looking, they won't find anything to incriminate you with. When that's done, I'll follow you back to England and Fred-"

"Will be coming with you."

"Qué?" Beila spun around and reached for him.

Fred placed a hand over hers and brought it to his chest.

"Harry needs a reason to 've come to Spain. I can be that reason." Fred leaned down and kissed her on the lips. "I'll come back."

Her fingers curled into his shirt. "You had better."

Harry rolled his eyes in frustration. "Enough of this. Beila, go and get ready. Fred, get some of Blake's things together. I'll feed her before you two have to leave." He pushed open the door with his foot, and turned as he followed it into the room. "We have less than ten minutes."

* * *

"Right." Parker nodded. "I see." He hazard a glance to his left while the woman leaned forward over her desk and scribbled an address on a scrap of parchment. Next to him, Ron stood stiff, shoulders pushed back, eyes looking purposefully forward. Hard. His mouth stiffened into a thin hard line.

He returned his focus to the clerk when she straightened, the bit of parchment folded in her hand. He nodded politely as he accepted it. "Thank you for your assistance."

The woman nodded once before turning back to her work, clearly dismissing them.

Without speaking, Ron turned himself. Just as rigid as he was when standing still, he strode determinedly towards the door, arms stiff at his side. He shoved it open with enough force to have it crashing into the wall behind.

Parker followed behind him, preparing himself for the explosion he was certain was coming. He could see it building, precariously chained behind Ron's waning control. Fists clenched at his side, Ron strode down the flight of stairs to the front lobby, and thrust open the front door.

Parker stopped at the head of the stairs and watched Ron march a short distance away from the building. He came to a stop next to three trash bins. Hands planted on his hips, head bowed, be rocked onto one foot, and then the other, slowly turning in a circle with each step. His breath was harsh and shallow, each pant more strained then the last.

With a roar, Ron pulled back his foot and let it loose on the side of the nearest bin. He pulled back, letting loose again with several kicks before finally knocking it over on its side. He gave it one more solid thrust.

"Ron?" Parker called, hurrying down the step to his side. "Ron?" He reached for his friends shoulder. The moment his fingers touched he could feel the muscles tense underneath the skin.

"I'm fine." He shook Parker's hand off, taking a step away. "I'm fine." He said again. Turning to face his partner.

Parker bit his lip to keep from responding. Ron wasn't fine.

Letting all the air in his lounges out in an angry huff, Ron brought his hands to his face and rubbed vigorously before letting them drop. "All right then." He stepped away from the alley and towards the curb, lifting a hand into the air.

"Ron,"

"I told you I'm fine." He bit out sharply, anger cutting each word short.

"Well you don't sound _fine_." Parker retorted, planting himself at Ron's side, waiting for his tall friend to turn and look at him.

"Well, I am?"

Parker slowly crossed his arms over his chest; one brow arched high, waiting.

"Damn it, Parker." Ron dropped his hand, turning fully to face him. "What do you want me to say? That I'm happy? That this is what I've been waiting for?"

"Well…Isn't it?"

"No." Ron turned away. "It isn't."

"No?"

"No."

"No?"

"No." he spun back. "Do you think I wanted to hear that it was Hermione? Do you think I wanted to know that she was the one behind Blake's…" He stopped, thrusting his fingers through his hair again. "What am I supposed to make of this, Parker? What is it supposed to mean?"

"Wait a minute there, Ron." Parker held up his hands. "We still don't know if in fact it was Hermione. This could all just be a coincidence."

"A coincidence? Oh come off it." Ron threw up his arms. "Beila Ramírez's niece, a niece none of her coworkers knew she had, kips out at her house, dropped by a flighty sister, at the exact same time Blake goes missing?"

"All right," Parker waved dismissively, "I'll admit a coincidence is highly unlikely,"

"Highly unlikely? It's impossible. This, this Beila woman, she's one of Hermione's closest friends, for Merlin's sake. She had to know Hermione was in some sort of trouble. Why didn't she come to her aid? If they're such good friends? I'll tell you," He jabbed his fingers into Parker's chest. "Because she has Blake." Eyes gleaming, Ron turned away from Parker, hand once again raised in the air to hail a cab. "She's had her all this time."

Moments after his hand was in the air, he caught a cabbie's attention and the vehicle slid easily out of traffic and up to the curb. Ron pulled open the door and they both climbed inside. When the door was closed Parker unfolded the parchment and read off the address in a mutilated Spanish.

The man must have understood well enough. He pulled the cab away from the curb and into the flow of traffic. Parker sank back in the seat, his arms crossed over his chest. "What are you going to do?" He asked in a lowered voice, in the off chance the cab man understood English.

"What do you mean, what am I going to do?" Ron asked through his teeth. "I'm going to go and find my daughter and I'm going to bring her home."

"So she's _my daughter_ again?"

Ron ignored the question, turning his head to stare out the nearest window.

Parker pursed his lips. "And Hermione?" Ron turned his face further.

"Ron," Parker hissed. "What about Hermione?"

Ron bowed his head forward until his brow rested against the glass. "That depends."

"On what?"

He could see Ron's reflection close his eyes in the glass. "Everything." He sighed.

"Everything?" Parker snarled. "That should depend on nothing. Hermione is your best friend. She's the woman you love. She…"

"What would you have me do?"

Parker gapped a moment. "Everything in your power."

Ron shook his head. "There's nothing I can do for her."

Parker snorted. "Or _will_ do."

Instead of responding, Ron returned his focus to the view outside his window.

Parker stared at him a moment. He didn't understand what was going on. Why wouldn't Ron act? What was going through his head that made him abandon Hermione? Especially now? He didn't know what to do. He wanted to demand that Ron help Hermione in any way that he could. How could Ron not see what was going on here? How could he not see what Hermione had sacrificed? For him? Clearly everything she had done was for him. She had let herself be carted away to prison without a fight. Suffered under Dementors. Lost her job. Her mind. Her freedom. All to protect Blake and Ron in the only way she could see how.

And Ron sat there. Angry with her. For what?...Deceiving him? Hiding Blake's location in an attempt to keep her safe. Ron's reaction was out of line and uncalled for. Why couldn't Ron see what he saw?

Hermione wasn't stupid. Far from it. She had to have known Ron would be the Ministries first suspect in the kidnapping. She had most likely hoped her and Ron's façade of non friendship would offer her some protection her from suspicion. And as to why she hadn't included him in her plans, well that was easily explained as well. How well he remembered Ron's reaction in the courtroom when Blake had been handed over to Melantha Javed. She would have known, as he did, that Ron would not have been able to stop himself from going after her. Even if that was what was best for them all.

He glanced at Ron again. He still hadn't opened his eyes.

That was why he didn't try and dissuade him now. He knew the attempt would be futile. Ron was going to bring Blake home if it killed him.

Parker turned his own face towards the window. At least the Javeds were in legal custody now. So at the very least Blake was safe from them.

Sighing, Parker sunk further into his seat, lifting his right leg to cross over his left. "So what is the plan exactly? March in there, wands waving, demanding she hand Blake over? Knock on the door politely and ask if she's been harboring any black haired babies illegally in her home?"

"Parker," Ron said warningly.

The cab took a slow right off the busy road onto a quieter residential street. They passed by a few houses before Parker pushed against the floor with his foot, straightening out of his slouch into a more alert position. "Or maybe we could just ask Harry."

"What?" Ron pulled away from the window to look at Parker. He followed his partners gaze out the windscreen to where two men stood on the sidewalk. One man, shorter, rounder, olive toned skin and a receding hairline of black, stood with one foot inside the cab, ready to climb back inside. The other man was slim, slightly under average height and had hair jet black and sticking up at odd angels.

Ron's mouth dropped. He'd recognize his best friend anywhere. "Harry?" He sat forward, leaning against the window protecting their cab driver. "What is he doing here?"

The lid to the cab's boot closed suddenly and a head of bright hair appeared like a beacon over the top of the small vehicle.

"Is that…" Parker was leaning forward as well.

"No," Ron shook his head in denial, watching as Harry opened the door to the cab as another person dashed down the short walk from the house. "No." Ron's eyes grew wide with horror. "No." He slammed his hand against the window. He recognized the fourth figure now. It was that woman. Hermione's friend. The one who had been with her at Blake's naming ceremony. The one Fred had been mooning over. And the child she held in her arms was his Blake. It took a moment for his shocked mind to comprehend what he was seeing. Harry was holding the door for her. She was getting in. "No!" He screeched, banging against the glass. "Pull over. Pull over!" He slammed his hands again.

The driver looked back at him through the rearview mirror, eyes wide.

Ron slammed his fists against the glass once more. "Pull over. Let me out."

Muttering under his breath, the cabbie turned the steering wheel, guiding the cab toward the curb, pressing lightly against the break.

Ron threw open the door before the vehicle had come to a stop. "Blake!" he yelled, running. His heart picked up a beat. He was too far away.

The three adults standing at the curb whirled around, their eyes wide with horror. Harry's eyes met Ron's and in that moment they both knew. Ron knew that Harry had had a part in it. Harry knew that Ron knew everything.

Reacting quickly, Harry turned and pushed Beila into the cab, slamming the door behind her. He yelled something at the driver he couldn't understand. It became clear when the cab moved away from the curb.

"No!" Ron roared, running for them, ready to throw himself in front of the car if he had to in order to stop it. The driver pushed down on the gas and it shot down the street and past Ron before he had a chance to react. "NO!" He screamed careening around, trying to run after it. "Blake!"

Harry was chasing after him now, calling his name. "Ron! Ron, stop!"

The cab turned left off the street and disappeared into traffic.

"No." Ron stumbled, his toe catching in a crack in the walk, nearly falling to his knees. "Blake." He struggled back to his feet. Harry caught him then, pulling him back. "Get off me." Ron reared back, dislodging Harry easily. He took a few more running steps but stopped, heart lurching, knowing it was no good. She was gone. She was gone…and Harry let her go. No. He turned, eyes blazing. Harry didn't let her go, he sent her away!

Temper rising he reached for Harry, pulling him tight to his face. "What did you do?" He was so angry he shook. "What the hell did you do?"

"Ron," Harry latched onto his wrists trying to counter Ron's movements.

He shook harder. "What did you do?!"

"Ron," Fred was at their side now, trying to pry Ron's fingers loose of Harry's robes. "Ron, let him go. Let him go."

"He sent her away." He shook Harry again, "You sent her away. How could you send her away?"

"Ron," Parker was there now. "Let him go."

Ron opened his mouth to say something but Parker stopped him, speaking over him firmly.

"Let Harry go."

Ron's fingers curled tighter.

Parker leaned in, "Don't make me use my wand."

"Ron," Harry's grip hardened, trying to gain Ron's focus. "I had to, mate." Ron's face whipped back around, their faces meeting. "I had to."

"You're not my _mate_." Ron shoved him away, knocking him backwards into Fred. "And you're not my brother." He sneered.

"Ron," Harry straightened himself with Fred's help. "You don't understand."

"You have that one right." Ron's head shook slowly back and forth. "How could you _do_ that to me?"

"Ron," Harry stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Jillian Oldham is on her way here, right now."

"Like hell I care." Ron made to step back but Harry stopped him, taking a hold of his arm and jerking him to a stop.

"You have to care, Ron. You have to." He gave him a shake. "This isn't just about you."

"Yeah?" Ron challenged.

"Hermione is in prison." Harry said slowly, emphasizing each word. "Fred and I will join her if Jillian finds out what we did."

"You helped Hermione hide Blake from me." Ron put a hand to his chest. "You've know… All this time _you've _known where she was and you didn't tell me…" Ron's face sunk under the weight of Harry's betrayal. "You lied to me." He jerked his arm back, freeing it of Harry's grasp. "You lied to me, Harry. How could you lie to _me_?"

"I didn't." Harry held up his hands. "I just didn't tell you. Look," he took a step. "I was trying to stop you from making a huge mistake." He could see a vein pulsing in Ron's chin. "I knew if I'd told you," he pressed on, "you would have used the next portkey to come here and get her. I couldn't let you do that."

Ron's fingers curled into his hands. "You couldn't _let_ me?"

Harry shook his head. "There was too much at stake."

Ron turned away from him.

"The only way I could save both you and Hermione was by following her plan as best I could."

Harry watched, chest tight, as Ron's head shook slowly from side to side. "I can't talk to you right now."

"Ron," Fred stepped in front of him, putting his hands up to stop him.

"You either." Ron snarled, pointing a finger at him, the threat clear in his eyes. "It's bad enough," he said threw gritted teeth, "knowing Hermione didn't trust me. But the two of you…" He fought to hide the quiver in his chin.

"It's not about trust." Fred tried.

"Of course we trust you. It's just…"

"Tell me where she is." Ron cut in over him. He turned his body just enough so that he could look at both Harry and Fred. "Tell me where they went."

"Ron," Harry put out his hand.

"Tell me where she is." He snarled, grasping hold of Harry's shirt and drawing him forward again until their noses nearly touched. Ron took several breaths, trying to calm the rage he could feel building inside him. Still, his fingers curled tight into the fabric, cutting off a bit of Harry's air. "I was this close." He shook, snapping Harry's head slightly back. "This close to having my daughter back. I saw her and you took her away from me. I'm not asking you Harry. You are going to tell me where my daughter is." The fingers curled tighter. "Now."

Harry held Ron's gaze for a moment before he lowered his eyes. "She's on her way to the airport." He said in a whisper, his eyes darting from side to side uneasily. "Beila's bringing her back to England."

Ron's fingers tensed, cutting off more air. He stared Harry down, his eyes taking an unnatural amount of time to blink. "You sent her to England?"

Slowly, tentatively, Harry prized Ron's fingers lose from his shirt.

"Yes. I sent her back to England. Where do you think I was sending her? Guadalajara?" He released the last of Ron's fingers, stepping back out of reach. "Look, I know you're mad at me." He continued. "And I don't blame you. You have every right to be. But honestly, I did have her best interest at heart." He looked up at Ron, his eyes pleading. "And yours. I didn't want her coming home to anyone else but her father. I didn't…" His face lowered. "I couldn't…" Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I couldn't see that look in your eyes if they tried to take her away again." He dug both hands into his hair, mussing it further. "I needed to make sure that my niece was brought home to her family." He let one hand drop to his side. "And not to anyone else." He waited a moment for Ron to speak. "Can't you understand that?"

Harry, Fred and Parker watched, breath held, for a reaction. Ron tipped his face up to the sky, eyes closed.

"All this time…you've known where she was. All this time I've been panicked and worried, sick with fear," He lowered his face to look at the other men, "And you said nothing. Have you any idea the hell I've gone through?"

"I haven't known all this time." Harry denied.

"I just found out when you did, mate." Parker put up his hands.

Harry shot Parker a look from the corner of his eye. "I can't say as I know what you've gone through. I can imagine…" He gnawed on his lip, shaking his head. "No. No, I can't even imagine. Not really."

"Then why did you do it?"

Harry shrugged brokenly, his eyes heavy with tears. "Hermione tells me I have a hero complex. I always want to save everyone."

Ron's lip curled up in a sneer. "That's no excuse." He turned and began walking briskly away.

"What would you have done, Ron?" Harry took after him. "What would you have done if I had told you?" He had to quicken his pace to keep up with his friend's long strides. "You would have stormed in here, wands firing with your entire team of Aurors, and incriminated everyone. Hermione, me, Fred. You might even have brought yourself into question." Ron picked up his pace. "Not only that, you would have brought her home and you would have had to hand her over to the Ministry. You would have had to watch again as someone took your daughter away."

"And what just happened today?" Ron whirled around, nearly hitting Harry with his flailing arm. "I watched as you helped that woman take her away."

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Really?" Ron scowled. "Wasn't I really?"

"She's going home to you, Ron." Harry took a tentative step. "You only have to wait a little bit longer and she'll be yours forever. No one will be able to take her from you again. Don't you see? I might have helped keep her from you for the time being, but I'm helping you keep her forever."

Ron turned in a slow circle, rubbing ruthlessly against his face, letting them drop when he was facing Harry again. "How did you know? How did you know I'd…"

"Want her back? Please." Harry scoffed. "You're a Weasley. As if you would actually let anyone else raise that little girl so long as you still had breath left in your body."

"But why now?" Ron demanded, his voice gaining in intensity again. "Why did you send her back now? They'll take her away again. They'll place her with a family and…"

"Ron," Harry put hands on his friend's shoulders, stopping him mid sentence. "It's over." He said, the faint trace of a smile beginning to make its way onto his face. "Carbonell and Melantha Javed are in prison. They don't have custody… You do."

Ron's body instantly tensed. "What?" he asked on an inhale.

Harry's smile grew more pronounced. "If you had been there for the verdict," he said significantly, "you'd know that already."

" But I…" Ron mouthed uselessly. "I…" A light sheen spread over the blue of his eyes as his mind started to process the words. His eyes darted from Harry to Fred, who nodded at him stupidly in confirmation, to Parker who shrugged, then back to Harry. "I've…custody?" He finally managed to ask.

Harry nodded. "Yeah mate, you do." He squeezed Ron's shoulders. "She's yours."

Sagging forward, Ron put his hands on Harry's arms, bracing himself. He was struggling, fighting, to keep the overwhelming amount of hope from swamping him, terrified what would happen if Harry was wrong. "I swear to God, Harry…" he tried to snarl threateningly, "If you're lying to me…"

"All you have to do," Harry assured, "is sign the document to make it official."

Ron stood there frozen for a minute as his brain tried to fully comprehend what it was Harry was telling him. The other three men watched him, trying to understand the strange way his face contorted, the corners of his lips twitching as a smile fought for dominance. It was as if he was trying to decide which of the myriad of emotions racing through his body to display on his face first. His voice trembled. "She's mine?"

Harry and Fred both nodded eagerly. In the next moment Ron crumbled, slumping forward onto his knees, shoulders shaking with the force of the sobs wracking his body.

Fred and Parker took an automatic step forward in alarm only to stop when Harry put up a hand to halt them, giving his head one firm shake.

"Give him a moment." He said before crouching down on the walk, bracing one knee on the worn stone to keep him steady. He said nothing, just waited for Ron to get over the worst of it.

After a few tense minutes, where Fred and Parker watched him with worried eyes, the sobs began to ease. "She's really alright?" He asked looking up at Harry for confirmation.

Harry placed a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. "Yeah," he smiled. "She is."

Ron gulped past the hard knot caught in his throat. "Is she," his voice cracked. "Is she really mine?" The question was hardly louder than a whisper.

"There was never a doubt, mate." Harry assured. "She was always yours."

With a single shout of laughter, Ron grabbed Harry, pulling him into a fierce hug, clapping his back. "This doesn't mean I forgive you." He warned, eyes squeezed tight.

Feeling overcome with his own relief, Harry wrapped his arms around his friend, unable to stop his smile any longer. "I know, Ron." He thumped his back. "I know."

When Ron released Harry and the two men pulled apart, they found two hands ready to pull them back to their feet. Standing erect, Ron followed the hand up a long arm to a pale white face, smiling at him sheepishly. Ron's hand tightened around his, holding him in place. "What's your part in all of this?" His eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

"It's a long story."

Ron arched a brow.

Fred ducked his head, a blush spreading across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "I came here…for Beila."

"The girl?" Ron looked to Harry for confirmation before turning back to his brother. "_You_ came all this way for a girl you met once?"

Fred shrugged his shoulders feebly. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Whatever." Ron said holding up a hand. "I don't have time for this. I have to go. I have to get back. I need…" He spun around, head jerking from side to side, searching the area nearest them for a safe location to apparate.

"Ron," Harry reached for him when he took a step, "Wait." In a few hasty steps he put himself in front of him. "You can't do that."

"Of course I can." Ron shook Harry's hands off.

"Just wait," He put up his other hand. "You can't go back yet."

Ron pushed his hands down and away. "_Yes_, I can." He said stepping around him.

"How do you think it's going to look," Harry called after him, "when you show up back in England, expecting to get Blake back, before she's even arrived? How is that going to look?"

"I don't care." Ron called over his shoulder.

"Yes you do." Harry snapped. "Use your head, Ron. What do you think the Ministry is going to think when you arrive there; demanding they turn Blake over to you before they've had a chance to inform you she's even been found?" Harry waited a beat before continuing. "They're going to think you had something to do with it."

"She's mine." Ron whirled around.

"Yes," Harry sighed, letting his hand fall. "She's yours. But you don't want to give the Ministry any reason to suspect you had a part in this. You don't want to give anyone a reason to start digging. If they do they might realize that Hermione _did _have something to do with all of this and that Fred and I did as well."

Ron snorted. "As if you have anything to worry about. Like they'd ever charge you."

Harry's jaw tensed. "Just like they'd never charge Hermione, right?" He asked. "And what about your brother? What's going to stop them from charging him?"

Ron looked away.

"He doesn't stand a chance. They charged Hermione with far less evidence then they will have if you mess this up." Harry held his hand out. "I'm begging you, Ron." He closed his eyes. "Just don't. Don't do this."

"Ron," the redhead turned at the sound of his name.

Parker stared at him beseechingly. "You know he's right."

Ron scratched at his head with both hands, mussing up his hair. "What do you expect me to do?"

Parker shrugged. "The right thing?"

"And what is that? Huh?" Ron threw up his hands. "What is the right thing? Hermione broke a law. And you," he turned on Harry, a finger pointing. "You helped her. You both broke laws. An Auror and a Ministry Official. You both broke laws."

"She did it for you. We both did. Come on, Ron." Harry pleaded. "You have to know that."

Ron slowly turned his head away, looking down at the ground between them.

"I can't believe you." Harry shook his head. "I can't believe you're acting like this. You know what happened. You knowshe did this for you. She got herself into massive amounts of trouble to protect _you_," he poked him in the chest with his finger. "And now it's your turn to help her."

Ron remained silent, his eyes never meeting Harry's. "If you go back to England, you condemn her."

"Ron." Parker put a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to him. He's right." Ron opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Parker spoke over him, cutting him off. "Be smart about this." Parker hissed. "Don't do anything you'll regret."

Ron shook his head slowly from side to side. "Don't you think it's a little late for that?"

* * *

Hermione had to fight the urge to pull her feet up onto the chair. To pull her legs tight against her chest, morphing her body into a tight ball, in some semblance of comfort.

How strange, she thought, as she hazard a glance around. She'd been in this very room so many times before, and it had never felt so utterly…terrifying. Yes, that was the word she was looking for. Terrifying. And it wasn't terror over the events that were about to take place. She'd been through enough trials that even now, when it was her own fate on the line, she was still unaffected. No, she decided, returning her gaze to her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She was terrified only at the sheer size of her momentary environment.

After…how much time had she spent in that cell? It was impossible to keep track of the days when… She shook her head, forcing herself not to think about it. She didn't want to think about it. Not when the possibility of going back, permanently, was so immediate.

The small spaces of her cell, all three she had occupied, had become the parameters of her world. As horrible as the situation was; as terrible as the places her mind had been forced to go, there had been some comfort in the small, enclosed space that had insolated her world. Now, with the ceiling so high above and the walls so far away, she felt even less in control of herself and her world than ever before. A part of her, the part of her that needed some form of comfort, wanted this all to be over so she could be taken back to her cell and the familiar four walls and low ceiling and damp floor and bitter cold air she was used to. The logical part of her brain recognized the absurdity of how felling warm and dry was now alien to her.

She recognized, in that familiar part of her brain, a part that was slowly reawakening the longer she was in this room, that she was truly in a sad state. She could not relax. She felt an imminent sense of dread, as if the whole world would come crashing down around her at any moment. But she couldn't make herself analyze the situation further than that. Her brain was still too dulled to be of much use to her.

Searching for a way to ease some of her anxiety, she lifted her head to scan the room. She hadn't expected so many to be here. Most startling was the line of reporters that made up an entire section on the far wall. She recognized many of them from her time on working on high profile cases. But never had she seen so many gathered in a room together like this.

There was a tightening in her stomach as she turned away. She wished the head guard hadn't brought her here this early. She knew why he had done it, of course. He always took it upon himself to try and ease her suffering by getting her away from the Dementors. But this…all this time away from their depressive, oppressing presences had let her dwell to long on the fact that she had gambled and lost.

She tried to keep herself from searching the crowd again, but her eyes drifted over the unfamiliar faces just the same. All the while she knew they wouldn't be there.

Hermione curled in on herself. None of them had come. She knew it was vain to hope that Ron…that he would…but Harry? And Ginny? And Parker?

She turned her face toward the wall, trying to hide the moisture gathering in her eyes. For the longest time she had been dangling, fingers slipping, clutching to the edge of the cliff of despair. Her hope in Harry, her conviction that he had understood her, that he was trying to find some way to help her…the realization that he hadn't, took the last out of her. Her fingers slipped, and she fell.

She braced herself, anticipating pain a hundred times worse than anything she'd experienced already. But what she felt was phenomenally more terrifying.

Nothing.

She felt nothing. She was completely numb. Empty. As if someone had hollowed out everything inside her, leaving just a shell. Skin and bone. Body and blood. Nothing left of who she once was.

"Are you even listening to me?" Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder. "Hello?" The hand tightened, shaking her slightly to gain her attention.

Dazed, Hermione blinked once before she looked up.

Asnath stared at her through hooded eyes, disapproving. "You weren't, were you?" Her hand released Hermione, confident she had regained her attention. "Would you mind focusing, please? We'll begin any minute now."

Hermione turned her head when she felt a hand press gently at her arm. "Everything will be alright." Ramilda tried to reassure her, though she couldn't completely mask the uncertainty in her voice.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Hermione became aware of the sound of the door to the room opening again. She vaguely thought it was curious people were still being allowed in. There really wasn't much room left for anyone.

"There she is, Arthur." Hermione sat up at the familiar, warm tone of Mrs Weasleys voice ringing through the hushed room. She turned in her seat to watch Mrs Weasley hurry down the narrow isle, more seats had been added to accommodate the crowd, her eyes focused determinedly on Hermione, her husband following just behind.

Terrified of the tongue lashing she was about to receive, Hermione sank further into her seat, trying to hide as much of herself as possible in the hard wooden chair.

She had to fight the urge once again to pull her feet up onto the seat when Mrs Weasley's shadow fell over her. She screwed her eyes shut as tight as she could, not able to look at the loathing she was certain was on the other woman's face.

"Hermione," She cringed at her name. "Thank heavens you're alright."

Hermione's eyes sprung open, her head jerked up. Her mouth fell open. Mrs Weasley stood there, her arms held open towards her, urging her to come into the embrace. "Come here, dear." She urged, motioning Hermione again.

Stunned into immobility, Hermione sat there, staring at Ron's parents like they were some rare creature, the likes of which she'd never seen before.

Molly's lips turned down uneasily, her arms lowered slightly. "Hermione?"

The wealth of emotion in Molly's voice was enough to have Hermione slowly pushing out of the chair, still tentative in her movements. She took one step towards the waiting couple, and Molly's open arms. Then another.

When she was close enough, Molly bent forward over the partition, closing the gapping, and pulling Hermione into her strong arms. "Oh my poor girl." Molly chocked, rocking back and forth. "My poor, poor girl. What have they done to you?" She continued to rock, her arms imperceptibly tightening. Her hands stroked Hermione's hair tenderly, soothingly. She put her hands on either side of Hermione's face and pulled her back just enough so that she could see properly. Her eyes took her in from top to bottom, taking in the pallor colour to her skin, the dull tone of her hair, the newly angular bones in her body. Her lips trembled as she took in the complete effect. "Oh, my dear." Her lips pursed. "I've been so worried." She looked like she wanted to say more but thought better of it.

"Mrs Weasley," Hermione winced. Her voice sounded tortured, even to her own years. "What are you doing here?"

"How many times have I told you," Molly brushed a few stray strands of limp hair off Hermione's face, "call me Molly?" She released Hermione's face only so she could take her hand and squeeze it comfortingly. "And where else would I be today? As if I could be anywhere else." Hermione shifted uncomfortable under Molly's all too shrewd eyes. The older woman's lips trembled. "You don't know how… I think you…" she chocked off. She pulled Hermione into another fierce hug, squeezing her a little too tight. "It's unconscionable what they've done to you." She pushed Hermione arms length away and held her. "This will be all straightened out." She gave Hermione a slight shake. "You believe that, don't you?"

Hermione bit her tongue, aware of the scribble of quills across parchment. No doubt the press was excitingly reporting that Molly Weasley, mother of Ronald Weasley, father to the kidnapped child Blake Weasley, was seen not only talking, but comforting, the woman accused of the crime.

Hermione lowered her face as she imagined the trouble this was going to cause. "You shouldn't have come, Mrs Weasley." She said, gently lifting Molly's hands from her shoulders and setting them away from her. "What will Ron say?"

Molly's lips tightened into a thin line. Anxiety, fear, anger and disapproval were just a few of the emotions swimming predominantly behind Molly's eyes. "You don't need to worry about Ronald. He hasn't been around enough to form an opinion on the matter."

"Hermione?" Arthur questioned, returning his focus to the two women after searching the crowd. "Where are your parents? I would have expected them to be here."

Hermione swallowed, lowering her face. "Yes well, I haven't…I haven't exactly…"

Molly gasped. "Hermione Granger. Are you telling me you haven't told your parents?"

"I didn't see the need."

"They're your parents." Molly said a little sharply. "There's every need. They deserve…"

"To go on thinking their daughter is happy and well." Hermione cut in, finishing for her.

"But Hermione," Arthur struggled. "Your parents-"

"Are Muggles" she supplied, stopping him short, "Who've already lost their daughter to the magical world." She bit her lip, giving her head a shake. "They don't need to lose me this way as well." She whispered.

"But Hermione…"

"No," she held up a hand. "They don't need to know. Please." She lowered her head once more, trying feebly to hide the emotion she knew she couldn't hide. "It would kill them if they found out."

Hermione knew from the deep intake of air that Molly Weasley was getting ready to unleash on her the same verbal lashing she had watched the matriarch unleash on her own children countless times before. Having never been on the receiving end of one Molly's legendary tirades, but having watched many, she was greatly relieved when she escaped it this time as well at the appearance of Asnath on her left, cutting her off before she had a chance to begin. "It's time." She said, taking Hermione's arm and gently, but firmly, turning her around.

Hermione blanched, unsettled by the way Asnath had muttered those few words. Completely emotionless. As if she were commenting on something as mundane as the weather or the price of eye of newt. How could she be so cavalier? This trial, this was something that would affect the course of her entire life? Nothing would ever be the same after this very moment and this woman couldn't muster up the ability to even pretend like she cared what happened.

For a fleeting moment Hermione hoped she had never been so dismissive of any one of the clients she had represented. She tried to remember all the names and face of the witches and wizards she had defended. What words she had said to them just before the Official had come into the room.

She was horrified to realize she couldn't remember. Not their faces. Not the words she had said to them. She looked up at Asnath now, her stomach tightening. Somehow she felt that she hadn't been any better.

But there wasn't time to dwell on that. The door at the front of the room, the one directly behind where the Ministry Official sat, opened and a woman dressed in the official garb of the Wizengaumont walked in.

* * *

Jillian stood on the street side of the little gate, staring up at the brightly painted house, one hand resting on the latch. She'd been standing there for a few minutes, unable to shift the lever and let herself through. She didn't know what was stopping her. All she had to do was walk up that short walk, ring the bell and demand to be let into the house. Everything after that would fall into place.

A smile eased onto her face at the thought of what was about to happen. She's find the Blythe baby, take her into custody, arrest the accomplice, and take the "_Golden Trio"_, if they could even be called that anymore, down in the process. A wave of giddiness flashed through her. She would prove to the world that Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were no better than anyone else. She'd prove that they hadn't deserved all the special treatment they'd been receiving all this time. Potter and Granger would go to prison, Weasley would leave the Ministry in shame, and she'd be made Captain of the Alphas like she should have been in the first place. Greene would have to admit that she had been right all along and all the ridiculous changes Potter and Weasley had made to the Auror Department would be amended. Everything in her world would be right again.

But first she needed to get into that house.

With those happy thoughts dancing through her mind, she pushed down on the latch and let the gate swing open. Head high, she almost danced up the front walk. It was only her sense of decorum that kept her from leaping up the stairs.

When she reached the door she jabbed at the bell, enjoying the way the ring echoed through the house.

Jillian jumped as almost immediately the door opened. For one moment she panicked, scrambling for her wand as thoughts of surprise attacks jumped to her forethoughts. Her fingers had just circled the smooth shaft when her brain registered two things. No spells had been fired at her, and there was one very tall, red haired man, staring at her from just inside the door frame.

For one split second she was certain Ron Weasley was staring down at her and she could feel the fury already beginning to rise inside. But it wasn't his face she was looking up at. It was another Weasley, of that she was certain. She didn't know if anyone in the world outside the Weasley family had hair that exact shade of red. And that nose she had definitely seen on several of their faces. But this face wasn't as hard as Ron Weasley's. It was softer. Rounder. The cheek bones not cut quite as sharp, or the nose as long. And the eyes were not the same shade of blue. The eyes themselves did not seem to be so harsh. As if they were still innocent. Like they hadn't seen the same horrible things Ron's had.

It took her a moment to realize she had seen this man before. Probably when her team had gone to the Burrow to arrest Weasley in the middle of that family dinner. He was one of the twins, she decided, most likely Fred. She knew he had been here in the country, though she hadn't realized he still was.

"Hello Ms Oldham." He finally spoke, breaking the silence. He took a small step forward, subtlety blocking the entrance further, pulling the door so its edge rested against his side. "To what do I owe your visit this afternoon?"

Jillian's eyes narrowed into harsh slits. "I think you know why I'm here, Mr Weasley."

Fred screwed up his eyes for a moment as if he were in intense thought. "You remembered me from the night you came to arrest my brother and couldn't get my dashingly good looks out of your head?" He offered with his most charming smile.

Jillian's lips pursed unhappily. "Where is she?"

The smile remained on his lips, though perhaps a bit harsher. "Of whom are you speaking?"

"You know damn well of whom I'm speaking." She hissed, putting her hands against the door and shoving.

Fred lost his grip and the door swung open, revealing two other men, who had until that moment, stood concealed behind the heavy wood. Her mouth gapped open for a second before snapping closed with a laugh. "Oh. This is just too perfect." She stepped past Fred into the house and kicked the door shut with her heel. "I come all this way expecting to arrest one, maybe two," she stared at Harry, telling him with her eyes that she understood everything, "only to find I'll be brining in five. What a happy day this is for me. Tell me, where is Ron? Is he hiding somewhere up stairs?"

Slowly, deliberately, Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "And just who do you think it is you'll be arresting today, Jillian? Weren't you suspended?"

Jillian inhaled a harsh breath through her nose. "Citizen arrest."

"Ahh," Harry tipped his head to the side, looking at the dark haired man standing next to him. "Are you aware of any crimes being committed, Parker?"

Parker slowly crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes staring Jillian down. "Nope." He popped the p dramatically with his lips. "Not that I'm aware of."

"Hmm." Harry returned his focus to the woman standing in front of him. "Look at that. Nothing illegal. I guess you won't be making those arrests after all."

Jillian's fingers curled until her nails bit into the soft, fleshy palm of her hand. "Where is the child?"

"To what child are you referring?" Parker asked, his voice donning the same tone he used when questioning suspects. "A lot of people thing Fred has the maturity of a child." He pointed at the redhead. "Is he who you're looking for?"

"Hey," Fred protested.

"Don't you start in one me." Jillian snapped, pointing at the lot of them. "Do you think I don't know what's going on here?" She took a few more steps into the house. "You're trying to distract me while Ron sneaks the child out of the house." She shook her head manically, finally reaching into her pocket to retrieve her wand. I won't let you do this. Not to me. Not again."

She used her elbows to push past the men, rushing the stairs before they had a chance to stop her. She was at the top of the landing, opening the first door before she realized no one was coming after her. Feeling uneasy, she looked back over her shoulder, down the stairs to where the men still stood, all of them together, staring up at her.

"Just what do you think it is you're going to find up there?" Fred asked, comfortably leaning against the newel post.

She knew, by the smug lift to Harry's lips and the satisfied gleam to Parker's eyes, that she was too late. She turned back to the door, her hand still resting against the soft grain. This was where they had kept her. She could feel it in her bones. She knew it, just as surely as she knew she would find an empty room when she opened the door the rest of the way. It was almost as if it still echoed with the sound of a baby's cry. She'd missed her chance, and not by much.

Feeling the heat of anger rise inside her, Jillian took several deep, slow breaths. She could feel her control slipping away from her.

Fighting back the desire to scream, Jillian turned slowly on her heel, hands gripped tight at her sides, and walked to the head of the stairs where she stared down at the men from behind cold, dark eyes. They'd done it again. Once again Weasley and Potter had come in and ruined everything. Any hope she'd had of finding the Blythe Baby was gone. Her one last chance at claiming redemption, of getting her life back, vanished. Harry Potter had beaten her again. He'd stolen her victory, right out from underneath her nose.

"As you can see," Harry said, stepping forward so he was standing even with Fred, "there is no one in this house. Apart from us." He motioned to the two men standing on either side of him. "And no sign anyone was here who shouldn't have been. So clearly you've wasted your time in coming here."

Jillian automatically opened her mouth to argue, her natural instinct to dig in and prove him wrong. But this time she knew it would be a wasted effort. Anything she said now would only satisfy them further. She would not allow them the pleasure.

Jillian looked away from the men down the short deserted hallway. She wanted so desperately to search the place for clues. To figure out those last remaining pieces. But the effort would be futile.

On his own, Fred Weasley would never have been able to destroy all the evidence. He wouldn't know have the slightest clue what she was looking for. But Potter, Gale and the other Weasley…they were all highly trained Aurors. They would know not only what to look for but what magic to use that could not be traced.

"It's over, Jillian." Harry said, drawing her attention. He jabbed his wand over his shoulder, opening the door. "You should go now."

Jillian's chin snapped up at his words, her jaw jutting out stubbornly. "You think this is over?" There was a touch of humor in her words. She took the first step down the stairs. "You have no idea what all I've set in motion. And if you think," she pointed a finger at him, taking another step, "that Granger won't be held accountable, just because I couldn't find the child, you had better think again. No Ministry Official with half a brain can ignore the evidence that I've gathered. Your precious Hermione will be going away for a very long time."

"The evidence you've gathered is circumstantial at best." Parker said dismissively, waving his hand. "Even if you did manage to find a judge who would convict her, we'd have it overturned on appeal. Hermione's not going anywhere."

"Yes," Jillian drew out the word, stepping lightly off the bottom stair. "You're probably right. She would 've most likely got off. What with Potter and Weasley," she spit out their names like bile, "throwing their weight around the Ministry the way they do. I would need something a little more _condemning_ to pull it off, wouldn't I?"

"Condemning?" Fred asked stupidly.

"I suppose I'd need something like…" she paused for emphasis, "a confession. Wouldn't I?"

Harry drew in a short, harsh breath through his nose. "She wouldn't."

Jillian's eyes narrowed slightly, "She wouldn't? Are you so sure?"

His head was shaking now on its own accord. "I know her. I know how smart she is. She would never be stupid enough to confess anything to you."

"Are you sure about that?" Jillian tipped her head to the side. "How well do you really know her? I understand she's been throwing out a lot of mixed messages lately. I love you. I hate you. I need you. I don't need you. Save me. Leave me. Come back. Go away."

Smiling smugly, Jillian stepped lightly past the men, making her way to the open door. "I wish Weasley was here. I _so _wanted to be there when he not only realized the woman he loved would be spending the rest of her life in prison, but he was the reason she was put there." She stopped at the door and turned around, hand resting against the jam. "Do you think he knows?"

"What?" Parker couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Do you think he knows she's losing her mind?" Her eyes lit up. "She gets worse. Every day. Every hour." She shook her head, tisking her tongue. "And to think he could have put a stop to it all."

Triumphant in her small victory Jillian turned and stepped out the door. "Enjoy your victory while you can, boys. I predict it'll be very short lived."

She pulled her wand from her pocket and flicked it over her shoulder, closing the door with a satisfying slam.

She floated high off her victory as she strode down the walk. It wasn't often she got the best of Harry Potter like that. It felt good. Very satisfying. A few steps away from the gate however and the smile began to slip from her face. What did it matter? One little verbal victory was nothing. Weasley was still on his way back to England with the Blythe Baby. He'd still get his perfect, happy ending together with his daughter. He'd get everything he wanted, just like he always did. Except…

Jillian turned slowly to look back at the house. Unless she was much mistaken, and she highly doubted she was, based on the lack of inactivity inside that house, Harry Potter, and probably most likely, Ron Weasley, had no idea that Hermione Granger's trial had been set to begin– she flipped over her wrist to examine her watch, six hours past.

She shook out her sleeve as she lowered her arm to her side. If things moved swiftly, which they should, Granger's trial might be over before they realized it had even begun.


	30. Where Have You Been?

I'm not going to go on as I usually do. Just a quick thanks to everyone who wrote who I couldn't respond back to. You are absolutely awesome. I really hope you guys enjoy this. You would not believe how many times I rewrote it. Spines getting a little bit stronger, I just need to find a new job. Okay, I'll leave you alone now. Happy reading!

* * *

Chapter Thirty: Where have you been?

Cecil Cast hated her job. Lousy pay, lousy hours and lousy costumers. Hundreds of patrons who came in every day, living under the false belief that their food somehow magically appeared, ready for them to eat, the moment they ordered it.

But that wasn't the way it worked. Food did not just magically appear. It could be summoned. It could be stolen. But it could not be conjured. And yes, Barrel was good. He was by far the fastest cook in Diagon Alley, but even he wasn't that good. He needed time, just like anyone else, to make the food. And she needed time, just like anyone else, to serve. It was no easy thing to work her way through the crowded pub with a loaded tray, dodging trailing cloaks, jutting arms and waving wands, all without dropping a single plate of food. No one seemed to appreciate just how hard her job was. And no one, it seemed, knew how to throw their trash in the bin. Cecil sighed heavily as she surveyed the room. The very least they could do was not throw it on the floor.

Leaning against the handle of her broom, one hand folded over the other on the end, Cecil groaned. What a nightmare. There was no way she was going to get this all cleaned up before customers started arriving for dinner.

Letting her breath out in a huff, she stood straight. She took up the broom and tossed it into the middle of the room, catching it with her wand before it had a chance to land. With a flick, it jerked to a stop, the bristles just grazing the worn wood. She gave it another assertive flick and the broom began clearing a path from the center of the room to the perimeter, removing all traces of dirt and debris.

Satisfied, Cecil turned back to the kitchen, wand poised to summon a bin to collect the dishes. It sailed through the air and came to a stop at her side, floating just at her hip. She made her way to the first grouping of tables, pulling her hair up into an untidy knot on the top of her head. She made quick work of the mess, vanishing the remaining food from the plates, stacking them in the bin, collecting the cups and tableware and dumping them in with the rest. Using a rag she scrubbed off the table, working out the spilled drinks and grease left from the food. That finished she moved on to the next.

After only three tables the bin was full and needed to be sent back to the kitchen. She summoned another bin and moved on to the next grouping.

Cecil cursed as she approached the table, finding a spray of salt scattered across the top in a wide arch, originating at the mouth of a spilled shaker. She used her wand to blow the small grains off the edge of the table as she picked up the small cylinder and set it up right. Finished, she stuck her wand through her knot of hair, freeing both hands to continue clearing.

She was so used to the rhythmic sweep of the broom's bristles across the floor that she hardly noticed it anymore. That was until something came along to disrupt it. She was halfway through the next table when she heard the rhythm stutter, caught on something unknown. Her head turned, following the unfamiliar schwthump. Schwthump. Schwthump.

She straightened and turned at the same moment, rubbing her hands clean on her trousers.

Schwthump. Schwthump. Schwthump.

Her eyes narrowed in the darkness. Something was stopping the broom from continuing its usual cleaning path under the tables.

Schwthump. Schwthump.

With one hand placed on the table to steady her, she bent over at the waist, dipping her head so it was lower than the sea of tabletops. Set deep in the shadows near the pedestal holding up the tabletop in the far corner, was a large basket. Schwthump. Schwthump. She watched the broom sweep into it, trying to continue through it as if it weren't there.

Behind her a door clicked closed, startling her with the break in silence. As Cecil straightened she glanced quickly around the room, half expecting to find someone there. Grumbling under her breath about carless, inconsiderate shoppers, she moved across the room to the table. Stopping beside a chair, Cecil hunched down and reached for the basket blindly.

Her fingers grazed the smooth whicker but couldn't make purchase. Bending her body into a more awkward angle, she ran her finger along the lidded rim until she found the base of the handle. She had to push her arm farther under the table to get a sure grip, but finally she managed to curl her fingers around it enough to pull it towards her. It took a bit of effort, the basket was heavier then she originally thought. She gave the basket another heave and it slid to a stop between her legs, the lid knocking free when it hit her knee. As soon as its path was free the broom continued, passing by her, kicking up small clouds of dust and dirt.

Coughing, Cecil waved the cloud a way, reaching for the lid with her other hand. When the lid didn't fall easily back into place Cecil bent forward to examine the rim, searching for a lip or notch that kept the lid secure. When she moved closer, a shaft of light from the window moved past her shoulder and illuminated the inside of the basket just beyond the lip. Her eyes naturally followed it, glancing down and then quickly away. Whatever was inside was not her concern. She froze though, her mind registering what it was her eyes had seen.

She moved the lid back, her eyes looking for the something small and white she had seen resting just next to the wall of the basket.

Cecil froze, stunned for a moment into immobility. That couldn't be right. She shook her head, trying to clear it of ridiculous thoughts. She'd been working to many hours she decided as she replaced the lid. There couldn't possibly be… No one could forget… No one would …But what if…

Cecil hesitated, debating whether to just put the basket in the back with the rest of the items forgotten by people passing through the Leaky Cauldron, or to examine the contents further. She'd almost decided to put it in the back; someone would come looking for it eventually. But then again, she bit her lip, if there really was… well she couldn't just… not if someone really had…

Slowly, cautiously, as if opening the lid would release something deadly into the pub, she lifted the lid, just enough to look inside. She ducked her head to peer through the gap.

With a gasp Cecil dropped the cover, hands going to her mouth. After a moment of staring wide eyed at the lid she reached down and lifted it further. This time she let it slide off the back to land on the floor with a quiet thud.

"Oh my God." She gripped the basket. "Tom!" She called without turning, her voice cracking. "Barrel!" She lowered her hands into the basket. "You better come quick."

* * *

Winifred Edgcomb forced her lips to smile as she waved the couple out of her office. The moment the door closed the smile disappeared, all pretence gone. She hated days like this. Absolutely hated them. What had that couple ever done to deserve their fate? They'd done their part. They'd fought in the fight against You-Know-Who. And what was their reward? Spell damage that left them incapable of conceiving children of their own.

It wasn't fair.

This was the part she hated the most about her job. All those couples who came to her, wanting her to help them make their families. They put their fate in her hands and it weighed heavily on her shoulders. These couples, they expected her to find them a child. Not just a child, a baby. They always wanted a baby. Someone who could be all theirs from the very beginning.

Winifred fell heavily into her seat, slumping low. The Massons were in for a wait. There just weren't many orphaned magical children to begin with. Not anymore. If they had come to her right after the war…there had been options then. But now.? And a baby none the less? Everyone wanted a baby. There were couples who had been on the list, waiting, praying, for years. So much longer then the Massons.

They're best hope, the best hope of most of the couples, was that some foolish Hogwarts student got herself into a predicament and decided to give it up. It had been known to happen. More often than Winifred would have personally cared for. Children should remain children for as long as possible. Students had no business doing what it was they were doing that got them into those circumstances. But really, what did people expect to happen when they locked all those hormonal teenagers up together without any real adult supervision? It was astonishing more girls didn't end up in trouble.

Sighing, Winifred picked up her quill, preparing to scratch a few notes on the Massons's application.

"Ms Edgecombe," her assistant knocked as she opened the door, one hand extended. "This arrived for you while you were in with the Massons." She walked the short distance to Winifred's desk, offering the note.

"Thank you." She said offhandedly as she dropped the quill and accepted the missive. She glanced briefly at the handwriting scrawled across the front, not recognizing it. She slipped her finger under the paper and tore open the wax seal. She spread the missive open on her desk as the door to her office latched closed.

She was back on her feet before she was to the end, paper held slightly crumpled between her fingers.

She snatched up her wand from where it lay and threw her traveling cloak over her shoulders as she strode around the side of her desk and to the door.

"Evie," She called to her assistant as she secured the last hook under her chin, "Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day."

Her assistant was instantly on her feet and following her towards the lifts. "Is something the matter?" She asked, her face skewed with concern.

"No, no." Winifred shook her head dismissively. "Just cancel my appointments. Or reschedule them. I have no idea how long this is going to take." She bit nervously at her thumb nail. "When you're done rearranging my schedule," she said, seeming to come to a decision, "could you get a set of T9ph4 forms and leave them on my desk?"

"T9ph4?" Evie asked, surprised.

"Yes." Winifred nodded. "I've got a feeling." She turned as the lift slid into place. "Thanks Evie," She placed a hand on the girls shoulder. "You're a life saver."

She stepped into the lift and pressed the button to close the gates before pressing another to send her to the atrium. After a short ride she was walking across the smooth tile toward the designated appiration area.

As soon as it was her turn she stepped into place and spun on her heal.

In an instant she felt as though her entire body was being squeezed through one long, extremely uncomfortable, tube. Her feet slammed into the ground seconds later and the tube released her, sending the ends of her robes swishing around her ankles.

Letting out the breath she had been holding, Winifred shook out her robes forcing them to lay straight. She didn't mind appiration really. It was fast and convenient, well worth the discomfort. She just wished her robes made it through the journey as well as she did.

Ignoring the rain falling gently on her shoulders, Winifred patted her pocket for her wand. Satisfied that it had made it through the journey with her she crossed the length of the small back alley to the old wooden door. The metal was cold and slick in her hand. Grimacing she pulled open the door, whipping her palm against her thigh the moment she was able. She stepped into the dimply lit pub, sighing at the rush of warm air that greeted her.

The pub wasn't as full as she was accustomed to. Typically when she passed through it was packed with witches and wizards taking a break from their shopping to enjoy a quick pint. Today the pub was practically empty. There was only a small crowd, most of them she recognized as Ministry Aurors.

Three of them were taking statements, she assumed from the anxious looks on their faces, from the three witnesses. Some were busy canvassing the room for clues and still others had their wands out casting different diagnostic spells. She wished them the best of luck. She couldn't imagine they would find anything of use with as many magical folk who passed through here on a daily bases. This room had to be overrun with the shadows of residual magic.

She turned from them to the small cluster gathered close to the bar. There were two Aurors sitting on stools facing two who had their backs to Winifred.

Being unacquainted with the man she was looking for, Winifred called for Captain Bruer just loud enough to be heard, tentatively watching to see who responded.

One of the men with their backs to Winifred turned, dropping his arms from their place around his chest as his face relaxed with relief. "Ms Edgecombe?" He asked hopefully, stepping away from the small group to greet her.

"Captain Bruer." She acknowledged, taking his offered hand.

The Captain released her fingers, moving back a step. "I wasn't expecting you this soon."

Winifred frowned. "I don't waste any time when children are involved."

"Of course." He nodded. "Well," he stepped back with his left foot, clearing a path for her to come farther into the room. "Would you like to see her?"

Winifred nodded. "Where was she found?" She asked as she fell into step next to the Auror Captain.

"The barmaid found her asleep in a basket under the back table."

"Any idea who she is?"

"If we knew that we wouldn't have called you. Whomever left her left us no way of finding them. There's no letter. No identification. Nothing to let us know who she is." He led her around the bar pushing open one of two doors, revealing a small office. "She's in here."

He waited for Winifred to enter the room and followed her in. He closed the door then pulled his wand. He cast a quick charm, silencing the room from the inside.

Winifred glared at the man uneasily. She reached for her wand. "What did you do that for?"

Bruer stuffed his wand back into his pocket. "You'll see soon enough." He lifted a hand as though he were going to rest in on her back and lead her forward. She stepped away from him and he let it drop. He nodded his head towards the desk and the large basket sitting on the floor directly in front of it. "She's in there."

Winifred crossed the room to the basket and lowered herself to her knees. She looked back at Bruer with disgust. "You shut her in?"

He held up his hands in defense. "That's the way the barmaid found her. We assumed the person who left her did it for a reason. She seemed to sleep better with it closed."

Shaking her head Winifred returned her focus to the basket. Acting quickly she pried open the lid and tossed it aside. She reached for the small child but stopped with her fingers inches away from the little body. Her eyes grew wide. She snatched her hands away to cover her mouth.

Bruer stared at her, one brow arched high on his prematurely balding head. He took a step forward. "What's the matter with her?" He bent over, hands braced on his knees to look at her.

Winifred lowered her hands. "Where did you say you found her?"

"She was tucked under a back table. Why?" Bruer scratched at his pale scalp. "Who is she?"

Winifred reached into the basket and very carefully lifted the small child into her arms. She traced a finger along the sleeping child's cheek, taking note of the salty dampness, the bridge of her nose and the soft black curls that framed her red rimmed eyes.

Winifred's tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. "I can't be certain. But I think…" She smoothed back the child's hair, nodding. "I think she just might be." Her head snapped up suddenly, smile fixed on her face. "We need to get her to St. Mungos." She struggled to gain her feet without jostling the sleeping child, accepting Bruer's help gratefully when he offered her a hand. "Can you do something for me?" She asked as she nestled the child into a more comfortable position against her chest. "Could you contact Captain Weasley and have him meet me at St. Mungos?"

"Look Ms Edgecombe," Captain Bruer said shortly, aggravation sharpening his tone. "This is my case. You can't just call in a favor because you don't think my team,"

"Oh for Merlin's sake." She interrupted, temper spiking. "This has nothing to do with you or your team's ability to handle a case. This is a personal matter between me and Captain Weasley. Will you please just contact him for me?"

Bruer's face twisted up on one side in aversion.

"Oh, never mind." She snarled marching past him.

"Be careful you don't wake her." Bruer warned her retreating back. "That child screams like a banshee."

Winifred shifted the child to one arm, freeing the other so she could open the door. "Don't concern yourself. I'm sure I can manage." She closed the door firmly behind her, shutting him in.

Readjusting her plans Winfred walked around the back of the bar, eyes scanning the small groups until she found the man she was looking for. "Tom," she picked up her step when he turned her way. "Tom, I need you to do something for me." She put her hand on his arm. "I need you to contact Ron Weasley for me. Tell him to meet me at St. Mungos. Can you do that, Tom?"

Tom's old eyes turned to the child in her arms, then back to hers, widening with comprehension. "Of course I can, love."

"Thanks Tom." She turned. "I owe you." She called over her shoulder as she hurried towards the door.

* * *

She'd lived in this house for nearly four years now. Even when she hadn't lived in it, she had. She knew it better than anyone. Even Harry. She, after all, had been the one to transform the house from its former decrepitness to the masterpiece it now was. She wouldn't have thought it possible to know it any better then she already had, but she was wrong. After walking the same path for the last, she glanced at the clock mounted on the far wall, two and a half hours, she knew it even better. She knew where the cracks in the walls were beginning to come through again. She knew where the original mason had misplaced the tiles making the pattern slightly disjointed. She knew where the spindles on the staircase were worn, most likely from little hands gripping them for several generations. She knew all those things, but she still didn't know where her husband was.

Ginny made another pass and stopped to stare at the closed door, willing it to open and Harry to step in. It remained stubbornly shut.

"Bloody hell, Harry." She cursed under her breath. "Where are you?"

Hands on hips, she turned and resumed pacing. She didn't know how much more of this she could stand. She wasn't use to Harry disappearing with little notice. Not anymore. Not since he had given up field work when Sirius was born. The fact that he had run off now without telling her where he was going , again, was the least of her worries. She just needed him to come home. Now.

Finally, the sound she had been waiting for. The sound of the bolt shifting in its cradle and the screech of protest from the hinges being forced to hold the door's weight as it was opened. Ginny stopped to watch as Harry stepped through the door.

Sensing her presences, Harry lifted his head. He paused for half a second when he found her standing there, staring at him through slightly hooded eyes. Something Ginny didn't recognize flashed through his as he deliberately turned, and using both hands closed the door. He hesitated another moment before he faced her.

"Where the hell have you been?" She asked with no preamble. "I've been trying to reach you."

Harry leaned against the door, hands behind his back. "There was…something I had to do." He hesitated.

"Well I hope it was bloody well important. Have you any idea what's been happening?"

Harry nodded. "I think I have a fair idea."

"Really? Do you really?" Ginny shoved her hair back out of her face, her fingers getting caught in the knotted strands, sending a surge of further annoyance through her. "Are you aware," she batted the lock of hair behind her shoulder, "that Hermione's trial started two days ago?"

"What?" Harry pushed away from the door.

Ginny threw her hands forward as if welcoming his shock. "Why do you think I've been trying to reach you?"

"But," Harry stuttered. "But, that's not possible."

"What do you mean that's not possible?" She put a hand to her chest. "Are you calling me a liar? I was there today. I saw her."

Harry's nose scrunched with confusion. "What were you doing at her trial?"

Ginny rubbed her face impatiently. "Never mind that." She let her hands drop. "The question isn't why I was there, but why you weren't?"

"I was…busy."

"Busy?" A brow arched.

Harry shrugged a shoulder uneasily. "Fred and I…we were taking care of…_special_ cargo." He said tentatively.

"Oh well that's just brilliant." Ginny glared at him. "You're on me for weeks about needing to save Hermione and the one day she really needs you you aren't there."

"Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"No Harry," her voice quivered. "I don't. You were meant to testify today on her behalf." She paused a moment to let her words sink in. "They tried to call you as a character witness and you couldn't be bothered to show up. The entire wizarding world knows you're meant to be her best friend and you weren't there. How do you think that makes her look? Harry Potter, her _best friend_ and savior of the wizarding world, won't stand with her?"

"I…" Harry gapped, stunned, head shaking.

"Where _were_ you, Harry?" She demanded again.

"I didn't know." Harry sagged against the wood. His hands instantly went to his hair, worrying it until it was a right mess. "Bloody hell. I thought I had more time."

"More time? For what?"

Harry kept his hands gripped in his hair, making it difficult to look at Ginny. "To get Blake home."

Ginny was across the foyer in an instant. "To bring Blake home?"

Harry nodded.

Ginny stared at him, her eyes reading him like only she could.

She reached for his hand, prying it loose of the strands and weaving her fingers through his. "Harry," she paused a moment to collect her thoughts. "Harry, do you know where Blake is?" She asked under her breath.

"No." Harry said honestly, meeting her steady stare. "That was part of the plan." He explained. "The less I know the fewer people I can incriminate." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "But I did."

Ginny closed her eyes, turning her head away. "Merlin's pants, Harry. What were you thinking?" She dropped his hand to march away. "If they find out you helped her…What about me Harry? What about the children?" She dropped her voice. "They could send you to Azkaban."

"I know." He pulled at his hair.

"Did you even stop to consider what that would do to us?" She hissed.

"Of course I did." He dropped his hand to reach for both of hers, drawing her in front of him when he had both. "But I couldn't do nothing." He used their interlocked fingers to tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "When have you ever known me to standby and do nothing when someone was in trouble? Especially when it's someone I love."

"Never." She admitted grudgingly, closing her eyes, trying to hide her suffocating fear. "But Harry, what if they find out?"

"They won't." He promised.

Her fingers tightened around his. She looked up into his eyes, lips trembling. "When this is all over," she shoved him slightly, "I'm going to strangle you."

Harry nodded. "That's fair."

"How long?"

"Not long." He answered, understanding the unspecified question. "I told you I thought Hermione was trying to pass me a message. Fred and I put the pieces together and we followed the trail to Spain."

"Or course." Ginny nodded, looking towards the ceiling. "Where else would she hide her?" Her tongue slid across her dry lips. "But I still don't understand. Why?"

"Why?"

"Why did she do it? What could she possibly have been thinking? She had to 've known it was going to end this way."

Harry shrugged, lost. "You'd have to ask her that. All I can say is that Beila said Hermione made some sort of promise to Ron and this was the only way she could think to keep it. She also said Hermione didn't expect it to go for this long, which says to me Hermione didn't plan on getting caught."

"But she did. And look what it's done to her, and to the rest of us. Ron is a mess with worry. Mum is working herself sick because she can't do anything for Ron or Hermione. You and I've been fitting. And Harry, I saw her today. I saw Hermione." Her head shook as if she were trying to deny some horrible truth. "It's not good. She's not…" She lowered her face. "She's not the same. I don't know…" Her mouth trembled as she recalled the emaciated shell that had been her best friend. "Harry, what have they done to her?"

Not knowing what to say or what to do, Harry pulled Ginny into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. "The same thing they did to Sirius."

She shuttered in his arms. She closed her eyes to shut off the painful images she carried of Harry's godfather. He'd gotten better, but he never lost that haunted look. It always hung around him like a shadow. She blanched as she recalled Hermione's face from this morning. It was a face she recognized.

Harry's arms tightened. He lifted his head to look down at her. "I'm trying understand," He smoothed her hair out of her eyes, trying to see into them. "Why the sudden change of heart? The last we spoke Hermioen deserved everything she got."

Eyes still closed, Ginny turned her head so her cheek was resting against Harry's chest. "Mum made me go to the trial today. When neither of us showed up the last two days she came in here like a mother dragon, wouldn't let up until I agreed to go. She made me sit for nearly six hours and listen as the prosecution said some of the most…" She shoved back from Harry, anger spiking behind her sparkling eyes. "They've turned Hermione into some kind of monster." She snarled, wiping at her eyes. "They turned everything around, Harry. They took the most innocent stories and twisted them into…into these…they're lying about her, Harry. And the more bizarre the lies grew the angrier I became and… and… and I don't pretend to understand the logic behind why she did what she did, but Hermione Granger is not a monster. And _nobody_ talks about my best friend that way."

"No one but you."

Ginny flinched at his words. Hands resting on her hips she turned, nodding her head slowly. She ran a hand threw her fiery locks, gripping it tight at the back of her head. "That's right." She acknowledged as she reached the base of the stairs and sank onto the bottom step. "That's right." She repeated, voice cracking. "No one but me." She pulled her knees up to her chest and tucked her face into them. "I'm such a hypocrite, Harry. How can I be angry with them for saying some of the same things I did?" She didn't look up as he approached. "How could I have been so cruel to her? If I had known what was going to happen…" She shook her head slowly from side to side. She pounded a fist against her knee. "But I'm still so angry at her."

"That's okay." Harry crouched down so he was at her level. "You can be. I'm mad at her too."

Ginny rubbed numbly at her arms. "She promised me she would never hurt Ron again." Her mouth worked noiselessly for a moment. "And then she hurt him the worst way imaginable."

Harry pivoted awkwardly until he could sit on the step beside her. He took Ginny's hand and pulled it into his lap, holding it there between both of his. "Hermione doesn't break promises easily."

Ginny nodded. "I know." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Harry," she paused, drawing in several breaths before she continued, "What if I never get the chance to apologize?"

"Gin," He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her in. He pressed a kiss to her brow. "I won't let that happen."

Her eyes were filled with regret when she looked up at him. "How are you going to stop it? You missed your chance to help her."

"Gin," he turned her face, forcing her to look at him. "Why do you think Fred and I chose now to go to Spain?"

"To bring Blake back."

"Exactly." He turned his body slightly to better face her. "We had to do it _now_. This is what we were waiting for. Ron has custody again, which means Blake is safe, and Hermione has no contact with the outside world."

"Which means?"

"Which means," Harry cupped her face, "if Blake is returned to England when Hermione couldn't possibly have orchestrated it, there just might be enough doubt that they can't convict her."

"And it might not make any difference at all." Ginny countered. "They might convict her anyway."

"Yes." Harry agreed. "They might. Actually, they probably will. But this is the only chance she has left."

Ginny's mouth deepened into harsher lines. "That's not good enough. She can't go back there. They can't send _Hermione Granger_ back to Azkaban. They can't. She's a member of the Golden Trio. She helped save the wizarding world. She's one of Ron's best friends and he's Blake's father. That isn't right."

"I know." He agreed, wrapping his arm around her. "It isn't… But I don't think that's going to matter. I think Jillian Oldham is going to make sure of that."

Ginny tensed in his arms. "Jillian Oldham." She said the name with a sneer. "She's an awful woman. She's doing more damage to Hermione than anyone else at that trial. It's like she has a personal vendetta against her or something."

"Well, she does."

Ginny looked up at her husband, eyes narrowed. "She does? How? Why?"

"In truth her issues are with Ron and me. Hermione's just caught in the middle."

"I don't understand."

Harry sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "Jillian believes," he dropped his hand onto his knee. "That she should have been made Captain of the Alphas over Ron. She thinks he used his celebrity to get the appointment, not his record. She believes we all use our celebrity to get what we want. But she can't touch Ron and me, so she's going after Hermione." Harry drew in an unsteady breath. "She's punishing her to punish us."

"So that's why…" her eyes darted back and forth as her mind raced, putting all the pieces together. She looked up at Harry suddenly, her mouth handing slightly open. She pointed a finger at him. "It was you."

"It was me…what?"

"You…" she pointed at him again for emphasis. "You were the one who leaked the story to the _Prophet._ You're the one who got her in trouble."

"Of course I did. You don't think I was going to let her get away with torturing Hermione, do you?"

"No." Ginny said assertively. "I would expect absolutely nothing less from you. What happens if Greene finds out?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't care. Some things are more important."

Ginny nodded slowly. "Harry," she played nervously with the cuff of his sleeve. "She did do it."

"I know."

"So there's a good chance she will be convicted."

"Yes." He agreed.

"What happens if they do?"

Harry thought about it a moment. "We appeal."

"And if that doesn't work."

A smile turned up the corner of Harry's lips. "We storm Azkaban and break her free."

"Harry," she frowned. "Be serious."

"I am serious. We'll storm Azkaban, get her out of there, and we'll help her lead a life on the run." His smile was bittersweet. "It's not as though we don't have practice."

Ginny snuggled into Harry's chest, gripping his robes tight in her fingers. "It won't come to that."

Harry kissed the crown of her head. "You're right." He turned his face to rest his cheek on her hair and stare hollowly at the far wall. "It won't."

* * *

His eyes were beginning to cross. How in the hell had so much mail accumulated in such a short amount of time. He wasn't half way through this stack and there was still more in the hall. Moaning, he picked up another letter and slid his finger under the wax seal. With frustration Ron balled up the note and threw it at the modest fire burning low in the grate. It was another letter from the_ Prophet_ requesting a privet interview. "Not bloody likely." He muttered as he watched the parchment catch and go up in a bright burst of flame.

Wearily Ron rubbed at his eyes. He didn't know how much more of this he could stand. How was he supposed to pretend like everything was normal when he knew that Blake was on her way home? It took all the resolve he had not to apperate to the nearest aeroplane station and look for her. Honestly, how long could it take? Shouldn't they be back in the country by now? He'd already waited a day. He knew, without a measure of a doubt, he could not wait for another. The suspense felt like it was literally killing him. His insides were so knotted it was painful to breath.

And he couldn't concentrate. How could he when kept seeing his worst nightmares come to life in his mind? He kept waiting for them to happen. Waiting for the worst news he could imagine to happen and bring his world to another screaming halt. He was waiting for Harry to come knock on his door. He was waiting for news that that wonky Muggle aeroplane Beila had brought Blake home on had crashed. His breath picked up and his chest tightened at the thought. He sucked air into his lungs in sharp painful gasps.

Before he'd realized he's had the thought he was on his feet. He couldn't take this a moment longer. He couldn't. Not when something terrible had obviously happened. He had to do something. He had to go and find her. He couldn't…he had to.

He looked frantically around the empty room as if it could somehow give him the answers he needed. His eyes skimmed along the walls, over the bookshelves, automatically skipping the large tomes he'd taught himself to ignore.

Finding nothing to comfort him and being reminded of things he wasn't ready to think about, he turned his back to the room, bracing his hands on the windowsill. He couldn't think about that. Not now. Not if he wanted to keep what little amount of sanity he had left. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the ghost of dreams trying to swamp him. Smiles and laughter. Lingering dreams of the future. He shook his head to clear the images.

The ironic bit was that she would have known exactly what to say to him. She always did. No one knew better than her what to say to calm him down or to rile him up. If she had been there she would have known. She would have found the words to convince him not to go running off, half-caulked, in fruitless search of his missing daughter. And if that hadn't worked her brilliant mind would have found another way to make him stay.

A hint of a smile slid across his lips before he had a chance to stop it. He banished it away quickly. It did no good to think that way. Hermione wasn't here and she wouldn't be. Not again.

It was then Ron felt it. A disturbance in his wards. Someone was trying to get through. Rather persistently, judging by the spikes in his awareness. There'd been such a massive influx of owls and reporters trying to get an interview with him that he'd been forced to activate his wards. Nothing was getting through without his direct permission and he wasn't in the mood to give that too just anyone.

Unable to see the front garden from his office and half convinced his visitor was someone there to deliver the news he'd been dreading, Ron was forced to make the short journey into the front hall to identify his visitor.

He pulled back one of the two curtains shrouding the widows on either side of his door. He needed to squint to see properly into the fading light and needed to take a second look when he couldn't immediately identify the man standing at the edge of his property.

He couldn't be absolutely certain, but it looked like the man frantically waving his arms in the air, trying to gain his attention, was none other than Tom, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron.

Curiosity piqued, Ron threw the lock and opened the door. "Tom." He used the man's name as a greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"Did ya know ya've got maybe ten owls trying to get through ya wards?" He asked in return.

"Yes." Ron nodded once. "I suppose I did."

Tom shrugged, dismissing the matter as unimportant. "I've got a message for ya. Tried sending ma owl ma'self, but she came back when she couldn'a get through."

Ron's arms crossed slowly over his chest. "You've got a message for me?"

Tom nodded, trying to take a step forward, but the wards forced him to take a step back instead. "I 'ave. Ya expecting an attack?"

Ron shrugged a single shoulder offhandedly. "You could call it that."

"Right," Tom frowned, clearly not understanding. "Well, ya need to get ya'self to St. Mungos."

"I do?" Ron leaned against the door jam. "And why is that?"

Tom held up his hands. "Alls I know is, Winnie Edgecomb is there with a babe she wan's ya to take a look at."

The look of amused curiosity froze on Ron's face as his entire body locked down. Blake, his mind screamed with certainty as his deprived lungs drew in air. Blake was at St. Mungos. She was hurt. He'd been right all along. His worst fears threatened to swamp him again, but he pushed them back. There was no room for them inside his head. Not now. Only one thought could be there.

He had to get to her.

In half a heart beat Ron was leaping off his front stoop and running full speed for the edge of his property. The moment he was through the wards he spun and disappeared with a pop, leaving behind a disgruntled barman, grumbling about ungrateful young men.

Ron reappeared in a London alley three short blocks from the entrance to the magical hospital. Purely out of habit, Ron paused long enough to ensure he wasn't noticed suddenly appearing out of nowhere by an unsuspecting Muggle, before he bolted out of the alley and into the street. He didn't stop running until he skidded to a halt in front of the false store front.

"Ron Weasley." He panted. "Visitor." He was almost surprised the manikin accepted his feeble explanation but did not hesitate to plunge through the barrier when she directed him forward.

Inside the waiting room was a mad house. Nearly every plastic chair was occupied by some witch or wizard with one magical emergency or another. Some of the spell damage was so bizarre Ron was almost obligated to stop and look. He pressed on.

It took him only a moment to decide the line leading up to the reception desk was too long and to attempt the search on his own.

It stood to reason, he thought as he moved towards the lifts, that if Winnie Edgecombe had brought Blake here she would have brought her to where the children are kept. The children were probably kept somewhere near the babies.

With destination in mind he pressed the call button. If he was wrong he would ask someone there for help.

He jabbed at the button a few more times but abandoned it soon after, choosing instead to try his luck with the stairs. His training as an Auror had him better equipped than most to take the stairs at a run, but he was still winded as he reached the right floor and stumbled through the door onto the ward.

"Sorry," Ron panted apologetically to the families waiting in the hallway who had turned to stare at him when he burst through the door. He spared them only a glance before he was turning to read the hospital map mounted on the wall. His eyes scrunched. He was having trouble making out the descriptions.

"Sir," a witch in lime green robes approached him at a half run. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Ron panted, turning to face her, hands anchored to his hips. "I'm looking for my daughter."

"Alright," the witch nodded. "What ward is she in?"

Ron's face scrunched tight. "I uh…I uh don't know."

Her lips instantly turned down in a frown. "You don't know?"

Ron shook his head.

"Alright," she said a little testily. "What was she brought in for?"

Ron's face flushed with mounting embarrassment. "I uh…don't know that either."

The woman's lips pursed unhappily. "I see." She crossed her arms just under her bosom.

Ron could tell by the look in her eyes that he was just moments away from being escorted from the premises. His mind quickly jumped through his options, settling on the one that was most likely going to get him the fastest help. "Is Trainee Hamlin working today?"

One dark brow arched high at the question. "Bernadette Hamlin?"

"Yes." He sighed with relief. "Bernadette. May I speak with her?"

The woman's eyes narrowed further. "I thought you were here to see your daughter."

"Please," Ron begged. "This is urgent. Bernie's aware of the situation. She can help me. Please."

The woman stared at him a moment, her lips still pursed. His shoulders sagged with defeat just as she pulled her wand and pressed it to her throat. "_Sonorus_. Trainee Hamlin. Please report to the maternity ward immediately. Trainee Hamlin, please report to the maternity ward."

"Thank you." Ron's voice rang with gratitude.

The woman's lips pursed. "Don't think you've gotten your way, young man." She warned. "If I don't like what Ms Hamlin has to say I'll have you removed quicker than a hopping-pot."

Ron nodded once, both acknowledging and dismissing the warning. It didn't matter what this little woman said, he wasn't leaving this hospital without Blake.

Ron glanced at the wall map longingly. It would be so much easier if there was a little star that said BLAKE IS HERE. He was wasting valuable time. Blake was somewhere in this hospital and being separated from her now was nearly as painful as watching her being carried away in that cab had been.

Closing his eyes, Ron turned and leaned against the wall. He sank low, bracing his arms on his knees, head bowed forward. The medi-witch stared at him, eyes softening with concern.

"Are you alright, Sir?"

"No." Ron moaned. "I'm not."

The bell over the lift chimed and the doors slid open. Bernie stepped off, poised and ready for her next assignment. "Ron?" she looked with confusion from the man hunkered down on the floor to the witch standing over him. "Ron, what are you doing here?"

"You know this man?" the Healer demanded.

Bernie stepped around her to reach for Ron's hand, helping pull him to his feet. "What are you doing here?" She glanced curiously around. "In the maternity ward of all places?"

"Bernie," he latched onto her hand, "She's here."

"Who is?" Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the urgency radiating from his every pore. She took a step closer, lowering her voice. "Blake? Blake is here?"

"I don't know. I mean, I think so."

"Ron," Bernie gasped. "That's just…that's just…" her chest puffed. " Wonderful. Oh Ron," She squeezed his hand. "I'm so happy for you."

"I don't have her back yet." His fingers tightened around her hand. "That might not even be why I'm here. I'm just…"

"Alright." She nodded, taking control and resorting to her soothing voice. "What do you need me to do?"

"I got a message from Winifred Edgecombe to come to St. Mungos."

"Winifred Edgecombe? The woman who was handling the adoption?"Bernie clarified.

"Yes." He said the word with relief, satisfied that Bernie understood. "She handles all adoptions and all cases concerning children and family services for the Ministry."

"Okay." Bernie nodded. "If a child is recovered," she explained to Ron, trying to elevate the panic and worry she could see building behind his eyes, "then he or she is brought here just to have a check over. To make sure they aren't hurt or sick or been mistreated in anyway. I'm sure it's just standard procedure."

Ron nodded, uninterested. "Yes, but where do they bring them?" He demanded.

Bernie wove her fingers through his. "Follow me." She turned briskly and towed Ron back to the door leading to the stair well. She guided him down one flight of stairs and threw open the door to the next level. She rushed ahead, forcing Ron to quicken his step to keep pace with her.

She led him around several corners and along as many corridors until he was so confused he wasn't sure he could find his way out again.

She took one last corner and released his hand to step up to a small reception window. She leaned over the counter, speaking to the receptionist in a lowered voice. The two women dialogued back and forth, too low for Ron to overhear.

"Bernie," his patience was waning.

She held up a hand to silence him.

Hissing with frustration Ron pivoted, hands clasped behind his head. He opened his eyes on a breath. "Winifred?" He asked, eyes narrowing, spotting a familiar figure half way down the hall.

The woman's head sapped to the side. "Ron?" She finished pulling the door closed. "Where have you been?" She was marching towards him, weariness hanging about her like a shroud. "I was expecting you here an hour ago."

Ron met her at halfway. He didn't answer her question. His need for his own answers was too strong. His fear of the answers keeping him from asking them.

Winifred saw the need in his eyes and her face softened. "They found her at the Leaky Cauldron. She was in a basket, tucked under a back table. There was no note. No explanation. I imagine who ever took her planned to blackmail either you or the Javeds but got scared and abandoned their plan."

Ron nodded along, no longer listening to her explanation. He was taking deep, slow breaths struggling for composer.

Winifred glanced over her shoulder then back at him. "Ron, would you like to see her?"

Ron's head snapped up. He opened his mouth to answer but couldn't get the words past the hard lump in his throat. He settled for biting his lip and nodding.

Smiling encouragingly, Winifred took his hand and led him backwards down the hall until they were standing outside the door he had first seen her exiting. She reached blindly behind her, grasping for the handle. The door swung open and she backed inside, towing him as far as the sill where he stopped, body tensing with a mixture of fear and anxiety.

"Ron?" She squeezed his hand.

"I…"

Her face softened. "Do you need a moment?"

Ron closed his eyes, bracing himself. His heart was beating fast and hard inside his chest. It felt like it was going to break through his ribs at any minute. "Is she…" He swallowed and tried again. "Is she alright?"

Winfired gave his fingers another squeeze. "She's perfect. Tired. But perfect."

Ron pressed his lips together. When he opened his eyes Winifred could see the stark terror in them. "She's been gone so long." He mouthed. "How much have I missed?"

"I don't know." She said honestly. "But I do know that there is a little girl in that room who desperately misses her father."

Ron's eyes glazed with tears. "Yeah?"

Winifred smiled. "She's been understandably upset since she woke up. I'm sure…"

She was cut off as Ron pushed past her, bumping her in his haste, causing her to fall back a step.

Passing through the doorway was like passing through an invisible portal into a world of sound. Ron ground to a stop in the middle of the room, eyes riveted on the small red face screwed up in fury. His heart, which had stopped beating for a split second when he recognized her, raced madly back to life. Joy coursed through his body, swamping him with relief, nearly knocking him to his knees.

He caught himself, hesitating all of half a heartbeat, than took a step. Than another. He faltered, than was across the room, lifting the child out of the startled healers arms.

Ron held her a moment at arm's length, drinking in every inch of her. Searching frantically for any drastic changes from the child he remembered. He watched as the little girl opened her eyes, drawing in a breath, preparing to continue with a fresh cry of anger. She stopped, startled. There was a flicker of recognition behind her eyes and her small hands reached towards him, grasping.

In a shout of laughter and relief Ron hugged her to his chest, arms wrapping around her in a protective, possessive hold. Blake pressed her face into his chest, her hands clinging to his robes desperately. He ran his fingers through her curls, resting his hand at the back of her head, cradling her close to his heart. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, resting his face there, inhaling her sent. Her cries lapsed into silence, fading into noiseless shutters of breath. He could feel the tension ease out of her body as she relaxed into his familiar warmth. He knew the instant she fell asleep.

Closing his eyes, Ron turned his head and rested his cheek gently on her curls. He swayed soothingly back and forth, murmuring to her lovingly as tears slid from his eyes.

Still standing near the door Winifred waved the healer to her side, indicating with her head that they should both leave and give father and daughter a moment alone.

Winifred turned as the healer approached and found a woman standing in the doorway, blocking their exit. Squaring her shoulders, she marched the woman down, forcing her backwards into the hall.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" She demanded the moment they were free of the room.

The young woman bristled under the discourteous tone. "I'm a friend of Captain Weasleys."

"Sure you are." Winifred agreed cynically. "Why don't you run along now?" She waved the girl off. "There's nothing for you to see here."

"I really am a…"

"Look sweetheart," Winifred cut her off. "I don't care if you're the bloody love of his life. You're not getting in there. Now, run along before I have someone come and remove you."

Bernie flushed a bright red. "Don't tell me to run along." She snapped. "I'm not a child. And Ron _is_ my friend. So if you don't mind, I think I'll just wait right here for him."

"Ms Edgecombe," the Healer beside her interceded. "This is Bernadette Hamlin. One of our trainees. I can vouch for her."

Bernie tilted her chin up defiantly, almost daringly.

Winifred's eyes narrowed on the young woman. "Don't bother Captain Weasley." She warned, pointing her finger. "He hasn't seen his daughter in a month. I won't have you or anyone else ruining this for him."

"I would never."Bernie bristled. "But as his _friend_ I want to be here in case he needs me."

Winifred stared at Bernie a long minute. To Bernie it looked like she was trying to come to some kind of decision. She suspected the other woman was deciding if it was safe to trust her. In the end, when she spoke, it wasn't to Bernie but to the Healer. "If Captain Weasley comes out before I return, send him on to my office. I have documents for him to sign."

"Of course." The Healer readily agreed.

Winifred shot Bernie one last warning look before she hurried off. If she moved quick she could be back before Ron even knew she was gone.


	31. The Best Laid Plans

Anyone familiar with John Steinbeck's _"Of Mice and Men"_ will recognize the title for what it is. It's rather fitting actually for both the events of the chapter and the events of my life. I know it was quite a while ago that I said to be looking for this chapter, but as I said… _the best laid plans…_ But here it is, finally. Twenty-eight pages, going onto twenty-nine, so it's nice and long. And I worked really hard on it so I really hope it's not utter rubbish. I would like to thank everyone again who wrote to me, reminding me that you all are still wanting more of this story. I wish I could have written back to all of you, but… thank you. Okay. I've blathered on long enough. I'll let you get to it now. Happy Reading.

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Chapter Thirty-One: The Best Laid Plans

On the outside Hermione gave no indication she was aware Asnath shoved her seat back, fuming. Nor did she let on that she heard her sharp voice barking one last biting comment before she marched angrily towards the door, grumbling low under her breath about the idiocy of people and pig-headed, selfish gits. She ignored the sharp wrap of Asnath knocking firmly on the sealed door, and her huffing and tapping her toe when it didn't immediately open. And she waited, forcing her body not to move, as the guard released the spell from the hallway and the door opened. She held her breath when Asnath threw a last quick glare in her direction before stepping into the hall and disappearing behind a slammed door. Hermione forced her body not to flinch, only allowing her eyes to close, refusing to let another muscle betray her frazzled nerves.

She wasn't a fool. Asnath had made no secret her thoughts about her and her apparent inaction. She may not have let on, it would do no one any good to know what she was really thinking, but she had heard everything. Every biting word Asnath had thrown at her. Every plea for cooperation. Every persuasive argument. She was immune to them all. After all, every trick Asnath had tried on her she'd used herself on her own reluctant clients. She understood Asnath's frustration with her. She was frustrated as well. It wasn't as though she didn't comprehend the implications of her decision. She understood all too well. She understood the law. She knew what would happen to her if the prosecution and Jillian Oldham had their way. Her future prospects were nothing if not bleak. Even if she did miraculously come out of this a free woman there would be no escaping her reputation. The prosecutions vile attempt to tear her reputation apart had not gone without its toll on her.

Breathing deep Hermione dipped her head, her tongue sliding past the seam in her lips to wet the parched and cracked skin, causing her to wince at the sting. She put a hand to her mouth and pulled her finger back, red with blood from the tear. She stared at the scarlet blood a moment incomprehensively. She touched her fingers to her lips again and they came away brighter. She cleaned away the blood as she searched for something to blot at the wound wit, but quickly gave in. There were no boxes of facial tissue on the table and as grimy and dirty as her robes were she wasn't about to use them. Frustrated, Hermione pushed her matted hair back out of her eyes, pulling it together at her crown with both hands where it remained partially tangled, apart from a few wisps that fell back to frame her face, when she released it.

Tipping her head to the side and tilting her face towards the door, Hermione listened carefully to the raised voices outside the door. Asnath was furious, understandably so, and was taking her aggravation out on Thomas. Again. It seemed to be a recurring pattern.

Hermione shook her head as their voices rose another octave. If she was reading the situation right, and she suspected she was, there was a history between the two of them. A very intimate history that had not ended well. If she tried hard she could recollect a hazy memory of words spoken between them during that first meeting in her cell supporting the theory. No matter what had transpired between them this, arguing with each other in the Ministry hallways, was ridiculous.

Trying to drown out the sound of raised voices Hermione looked down at her hands, watching her right thumb trace a pattern of slow circles in her left palm. It was a habit she'd developed over the course of her hearing. It helped her focus and not react outwardly when another bit of 'evidence' was used to besmirch her character. She used it now to calm herself.

Hermione's lips trembled. She hadn't expected things to progress this far so quickly. She'd half expected either Harry or Ron to put her clues together and go after Blake. She'd expected Harry to find a way to get her out of here. She bit her lip to stop the trembling. She didn't know what she should expect from Ron. Hatred. Indifference. She'd done everything in her power to make it look like she hated him after all. Could she expect anything different in return. She struggled to swallow past her dry throat. Maybe someday in the future, the very distant future, Ron would find some way to forgive her. Needless to say, she wasn't surprised he hadn't come to speak in her defense and now it was too late.

Before the tears gathering in her eyes had the chance to fall the door opened behind her. She didn't bother to turn her head to look who it was. It was Captain Peel. He'd been with her every day of her trial. She clenched her hands tight, the tips f her fingers going momentarily white before releasing. "It's time," her voice cracked. She shook her head once to clear her eyes of the tears before she put her hands on the table to give her the leverage she needed to stand.

A hand came down on hers, halting her. "Hermione," the use of her name startled her coming out of Thomas Peel's mouth. He never, not once in the time they had known each other, ever called her by her first name. He always addressed her with formality, calling her Ms Granger. The sudden intimacy of the name threw her for a moment. "Sit with me a moment."

Hermione waited as the chair pulled out beside her and he slid into her vision as he took the seat. He didn't speak for several minutes, just looked at her with his intense, steady eyes.

"I'm sorry Asnath is giving you such a hard time." She said, the uncomfortable silence causing her to shift in her seat.

"Don't worry about that." Thomas said dismissively. "We have more important things to talk about."

"No." Hermione tugged her hand out from beneath his, placing it out of reach in her lap. "We don't."

"Asnath say's you still refuse to take the stand. Why?"

Hermione sighed heavily. "I don't need this from you too."

"Hermione,"

"Please," She stood. "Don't you start." She turned and fled to the other side of the room. "I've heard enough arguments from Asnath to last a life time."

"Well you're going to have to hear a few more." Thomas followed her to his feet. "I'm sorry. I just don't understand what it is you're doing. What are you waiting for?" Hermione turned her face. "Why aren't you fighting?"

"I _am_ fighting." She said low, almost too quiet to hear.

"You're not, Hermione. You're not fighting." She turned away from him, arms crossed protectively over her middle. "You're letting other's decide your future for you."

She shook her head slowly. "You don't understand."

"You're right. I don't. So why don't you try explaining it?"

"I am fighting, Mr Peel." She turned her body just enough so that she could see him over her left shoulder. "You might not see it, but I am." Her lips turned in a sad smile. "I'm fighting for something so much more important than my freedom. And maybe someday you'll understand," she looked away, "but for now you'll just have to trust that I am doing what's best."

Hermione could feel his disappointment. It hung heavy in the air, waiting on her shoulders and chilling her skin. She rubbed at her arms through the sleeve of her robes. "Mr Peel…" her mouth worked silently for a moment, "When you were…I mean…" she swallowed, "Did you happen to see…" her question hung unfinished, terrible with longing.

Thomas's lips pursed as colorful thoughts of where exactly Ron Weasley should go and what he should do while there swarmed through his head. The silence stretched and Hermione's chin sunk to her chest. Thomas's silence was all the answer she needed.

Something deep inside Hermione's chest lurched. Ron wasn't coming. Her arms wrapped around her middle as her heart fought her next breath, shoulders hunching around her protectively. She turned her face to the corner, trying to hide the misery she knew was in her eyes. "He didn't come." She mouthed breathlessly.

Thomas moved in behind her. "No. No he isn't here. I warned you he wouldn't be. I tried to tell you…"

"Please," she cut him off, choking on the word. "Don't. I don't want to hear it again. He's doing what's right for him…just like I am for me."

Thomas scowled, disgusted. "How can you still defend him?' He spat. "After what he's done to you?"

"Ron hasn't done anything to me."

"Exactly. He hasn't done anything for you." Thomas took several long breaths. "Let him go, Hermione. Just let him go."

Hermione flinched away from the pity and anger in his voice. It didn't change anything, it only made her angry. She didn't want his pity, nor did she deserve it. Nothing had been done to her that was not a direct result of her own actions. She knew what she had been getting into the night she went to the Javed's house. Or, she thought she had. At this moment, facing the very real possibility of going back to Azkaban for a very long time…she didn't know how she was going to go back into that courtroom.

Hermione trembled for a moment before taking a breath. "Well, that's it then." She said, gathering her unfathomable inner strength to herself and burying her misery deep inside, covering her face in an icy, emotionless mask. "I think it's time to go."

Thomas shuttered as he watched the life disappear once again from Hermione's eyes. He didn't know how she did that. How could anyone hide all that emotion so completely and utterly? To all outward appearances she was a stony shell of a person, occupying her body but not really living in it. He'd been certain the first few days of her trial that she had given up all hope. That she had escaped to a place somewhere deep inside her head, to a fantasy world that was easier to bear then her reality. But that hadn't been true at all. She hadn't given up the last of her hope until this moment, when she knew once and for all that Ron Weasley, her Ron Weasley, had abandoned her. Merlin help him, if he ever met Ronald Weasley again…

Thomas crossed the room to her in three long strides. He reached for both of her hands, holding the cold tips between his large palms, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Why are you doing this for him?" He demanded, his fingers tightening momentarily around hers. "He doesn't deserve it."

She tried to pull her hands free but he held fast. "Don't say that. You don't know him."

"Do you?" His fingers flexed, pressing her delicate bones painfully together. "What has he ever done that deserves this kind of loyalty from you?"

Chin stiffening, Hermione jerked her hands free and put some distance between them.

"He abandoned you." Thomas called after her. "He left you in prison to rot."

"I don't want to hear this." Her hands flew to her ears.

"Well you've got to" He was there beside her again, pulling her hands down to her side. "He doesn't care about you, Hermione." He gave her a shake. "He isn't coming to save you. Why can't you understand that? _He doesn't care_. You have to save yourself this time. You have to fight." He shook her again, "You have to fight, Hermione. Your silence makes you look guilty. You look like you don't care what happens to you."

Hermione mumbled something under her breath, to low for him to hear.

"What did you say?"

"Maybe," her eyes flickered to him then away, allowing him a brief glimpse of pain and defiance, "I don't." She jerked her wrists down, freeing them. "Do you think I don't know all of this already?" Her right fist connected with his chest. "Do you think I don't know that he's never coming?" She hit him again, using her left. "Do you think I don't know that I've thrown away my only chance at freedom?" She used both fists. "Do you think I don't see the look of complete revulsion and loathing on his face the last time I saw him every time I close my eyes?" She pounded again. "I know what's at stake. I know that I'm going back to Azkaban. I know Ron hates me." She beat his chest with every word, driving home her own pain. "I know Harry's abandoned me. I know that I've ruined my life. So you don't have to keep telling me. I know. I know. I know."

Thomas accepted every blow, waiting until they slowed and finally stopped. Hermione bent her brow against his chest and hit him once more. "I know." She shuttered.

Tears soaked the fabric beneath Hermione's face, chilling Thomas's skin. When she pulled away, Hermione covered her eyes with her hands, trying to staunch the flow. "I'm sorry." She blinked to try and clear her vision. "I shouldn't have…"

Thomas didn't answer at first. He stared at her, his eyes filled with sadness for her. "Why are you doing this?"

Hermione didn't answer but pursed her lips tightly together.

"Hermione," Thomas reached for her, tipping her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

He watched her eyes dart around the room, frantic like a rabbit in look of escape. He refused to let her go, making her look at him.

"Hermione," there was an expectation to be obeyed in his voice. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because." She wrenched her face out of his grasp. "Because I love him." She knocked his remaining hand off her arm. "I always have."

Thomas remained stonily silent, contemplating what he had always known and understood was the motivation behind her actions, as bizarre as they were. Slowly, comfortingly, defying her threatening glare, he lifted a hand and placed it against her wet cheek. "He doesn't deserve you." Her eyes moved over his left shoulder to stare past him. "And there's something else." His eyes narrowed and his hand dropped to her shoulder, "Even you wouldn't do something so stupid for love."

"Don't be so sure of that." She shrugged off his hands. "I've done a lot of stupid things out of love." She said, an air of indifference to her voice.

"To save the world."

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "And no. Most of what I did was out of love for Ron and Harry. Who cares about the rest of the world when the one you love is in trouble?"

"Hermione, I can't believe…"

"Would you look at the time?" She interrupted, gesturing toward the watch strapped to his right wrist. "Shouldn't you be taking me to the court room soon?"

Thomas stared at her a moment longer, his brows furrowed with frustration. Finally he looked away, sighing in defeat. "Yes." He took a step back, turning to let her past. "Yes, I should."

Hermione smiled gratefully. She took a moment before following him to run her fingers as best she could through her hair, trying in vain to detangle some of her curls, but giving up the effort the third time her fingers caught painfully.

Thomas waited at the door, holding it open against his back. "This way."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she neared, forcing herself to try and smile ironically. "Really, Captain Peel. After a week of this I think I know my way." She stepped past him into the hall.

"Right." He closed the door behind him then hurried to step into stride alongside her.

"Are you nervous?" He asked as they neared the entrance to the court room.

Hermione nodded stonily. "Yes."

Thomas looked over at her, surprised she'd answered truthfully.

"If they decide against you…"

Hermione snorted.

Thomas frowned. "If they decide against you," he reiterated, "I'll do everything in my power to make your stay more comfortable." He promised.

Hermione shook her head. "Don't do that." She looked up at him, pleasing. "I don't want special treatment."

"Well, I guess I don't rightly care what you want." There was an edge of anger to his voice. "You're Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake. Sometimes you do deserve special treatment." He reached past her to pull open the door to the courtroom as if to prove his point.

Hermione paused a moment at the threshold. "Thomas…" her eyes fixated on a spot in the middle of his chest. "I don't." She looked up at him, her eyes begging him to understand. "I did it, Thomas. You know that, don't you? I did kidnap Blake." Her head shook. "I don't deserve anything."

Not giving him a chance to react Hermione slipped under his arm and into the courtroom. She didn't want to see his reaction or hear him try and deny it. All she wanted him to know was that when she was convicted she should carry out the sentence that was put on her. What good was their judicial system if she received preferential treatment for something she did five years ago? She might have fought for Harry and Ron, out of love, but that didn't mean she didn't believe in what they had been fighting for.

As she moved towards her seat Hermione made a quick scan of the room. She ignored the rows of journalists and photographers, noticing subconsciously that their numbers had grown, knowing, even as she looked, that she wouldn't find who she was looking for. She did spot Molly and Arthur sitting near the front with what appeared to be most of the Weasley family. She couldn't help but wonder why the rest of them had come. To support her or watch justice be carried out. She tried desperately to keep her eyes from going to where Ginny sat. Out of all the Weasleys there she was most anxious about her presences. Why had Ginny come? Her heart tightened. A part of her had hopped Ginny came for her, to support her just a little bit…There last meeting didn't give her much hope.

Taking a breath to pull herself together once again Hermione turned to make her way down the crowded isle towards Asnath who waited for her, an impatient scowl narrowing her eyes. Hermione had only taken two steps when she stopped, her heart leaping into her throat. It was only then she realized there was a crown of black messy hair sitting on the bench between Arthur and Ginny. Leaning towards his wife, whispering something for her ears alone, his hair acting as a beacon in the sea of red, was Harry.

"Harry?" she croaked, clapping a hand over her mouth the moment it escaped. It occurred to her too late that she didn't know why Harry was there either. Even more than Ginny, if he was here to watch her brought to justice…she didn't know if she could bear that heartbreak.

Trying to focus solely on her feet to keep from looking at him, Hermione was only aware something had changed when the explosion of cameras around her doubled than tripled, blinding her. Knowing Harry could be the only person to cause that kind of reaction Hermione hazard a glance in his direction and quickly looked away, her shoulders shrinking in around her when she caught the determined expression etched on Harry's face. He moved purposeful through the crowd, edging his way around people who didn't move quickly enough, nothing deterring his path to her. Out of options Hermione skidded back a few steps, but stopped when she realized there was nowhere she could go. Her lungs picked up, drawing in great, gulping draws of air. Unable to meet his eyes, terrified of what she would find there is she did, she lowered her gaze to her feet once more.

"Hermione," she flinched, not at all expecting the almost tender timber in his voice when he said her name. Her shoulders tensed, recoiling away from the anger she was certain was coming. Arms wrapped around her and her body went into momentary lock down, her mind stilled. For a moment she didn't understand what was happening. She had been expecting harsh words and accusations, not gentle arms and calming murmurs. She felt instantly calm, the world not quite so terrifying.

"Hermione," Harry said her name again when she still hadn't responded, his voice tight with apprehension. "Hermione?" He began to pull back.

Chocking on the sob she couldn't hold back, Hermione curled her arms over his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him back to her. She pressed her face into his robes as hot tears leaked from eyes, uncaring of the camera lights exploding around them. "Harry, you're here."

Harry's arms tightened painfully around her. "I'm so sorry." He murmured. "So, so sorry." He began to rock from side to side, sinking into a soothing pace.

"Don't." She closed her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears. "I'm sorry. I just… I didn't know you'd come." She confessed, turning her face, pressing her cheek into his chest. "I didn't think you'd want to be here."

"Of course I'd want to be here." He angled his head back to look down at her. "Where else would I want to be?"

Hermione's shoulders moved minutely in a shrug, held tight by Harry's arms. "I thought you'd be with…well, Ron." She pressed her face tight into his chest. He could feel her lips move but her words so quite he could hardly make them out, but they sounded to him like "You always pick Ron."

A mixture of annoyance and wretchedness deepened his frown. He always picked Ron? Did she really believe that? If she did…if he had ever made her feel… He didn't know what to say. He'd never meant… Harry closed his eyes. Weather her fears were a result of his actions or the mind tricks the Dementors presences played on her memories, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed with a deep sadness.

Not knowing what to say, and not entirely certain he had heard her, he ran a soothing hand along her back, trying to offer her what comfort he could. "I would have been here sooner, if I had known." He could feel Hermione begin to relax. "I didn't know your trial had begun until yesterday evening when I arrived home. Hermione," he stopped, taking a moment to survey the crowd around them. Not entirely satisfied they couldn't be overheard, Harry tipped his head so that his mouth was close to her left ear. "I was with Fred." he said on a breath. Hermione's head jerked back. Her eyes met his, wide with, what? Hope? Anxiety? "We were out of the country." His eyes stared intensely into hers, begging her to understand.

Hermione's fingers dug into his arms while her heart leapt crazily to life inside her chest, slamming into her ribcage with each tense thump. She fought to beat back the hope trying to claw its way back into her soul. "You were?"

Harry stared at her steadily, his face betraying nothing, his eyes telling her everything. "He needed my help. There was…" Harry stopped, searching for the right words, "_very_ _special_ _cargo_," he nodded imperceptibly with satisfaction, seeing the understanding in her dark brown eyes, "that we acquired. We needed to find a safe way to bring it back to England. It took more time then we had anticipated planning a safe way to transport it."

Hermione's eyes asked him another question and Harry's lips tipped up in the corner in answer.

Hermione's breath rushed out of her in a great gust as relief rushed her body, swamping her emotionally and leaving her exhausted. She sagged into Harry, his arms the only thing holding her steady on her feet. Eyes closed, she rested her brow against his chest. "Thank you." The words were so quiet he nearly didn't hear them as close as they were standing.

Harry leaned into the embrace. "I'm sorry, Hermione." He moved his arm to hold her more securely. "I did everything I could think of…I…I…but I'm too late. Your trial…"

"No." Her arms slipped from around his neck to grip the front of his robes. "No," she leaned back. "You did fine. You did great. You did everything I asked you."

Harry shook his head, his eyes wet. "I didn't. I was supposed to get you out of here before this," he looked around with wide eyes, indicating the entire court room, "even started. I was supposed to find a way to get your charges dropped. I'm sorry I..."

"Stop." she laid her palm against his face, using it to direct his gaze. "The truth is I asked too much of you, Harry." She rubbed her thumb along his cheek bone. "You did the right thing." She nodded. "You took care of what was most important." She held her hand there for a moment, reversing roles and comforting him now. Smiling sadly she dropped her hand from his face. "I'm the one who should be apologizing, Harry. I should never have asked you to clean up my mess. I'm so sorry."

Harry snorted a sad laugh. "After all the messes you've cleaned up for me? I owe you. " His lip trembled despite his best effort. "This is the first time you asked me to do something for you…and I failed, Hermione. I…"

"Harry James Potter," Hermione took his chin firmly between her thumb and finger, "Don't you _dare_ blame yourself for this. This was all _my_ doing. _Mine_. _I_ was the one who couldn't come up with a better plan. _I'm _the one who…"

"You should have let me in on it from the beginning. I could have helped you. I could have…"

"And risk your family?" She glanced over to where Ginny was watching them, unable to discern the expression on the other witch's face. She turned back to Harry. "I don't think so. You have a wife and two children. I have nothing. It had to be me. I was the only person with nothing to lose."

Harry gapped at her. "Hermione,"

"It's true. I don't have a family like you or Ron. I had nothing so important to lose. But Harry," Hermione swallowed. She opened her mouth several times, trying to find the right words. She settled with, "You'll make sure he's alright for me, won't you?" She fussed with the collar of his robes, smoothing the wrinkles in an attempt to hide her nerves. "I don't know what kind of state he's in now… But Blake is going to need him." Her fingers curled tight around his collar, "And he's going to need you."

"Don't say that." Harry put a hand over hers and forced the fingers to relax. "You're going to get out of here and you'll be able to take care of him yourself."

Hermione's eyes were a well of sadness when next he looked into them. "Harry, let's not try and fool ourselves. I'm quite certain that no matter how things turn out today, I am not going to be the one comforting Ron." She turned her head away. Her eyes drifted over the crowd taking in so many familiar faces. The Weasleys in the front few rows, Neville beside them. In the bench behind Luna, Dean, Seamus and other of her friends from Gryffindor and the DA. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "I didn't expect so many people to be here." Her eyes met with Ginny's once more for a moment before she pulled them away. "I didn't know if Ginny would…"

"She's sorry, Hermione." Harry moved a damaged curl back out of her eyes. "She just doesn't know how…"

"It doesn't matter." Hermione shook her head, dislodging the same curl. "She has every right to be angry with me."

"Hermione,"

"I made her a promise, Harry. And I broke it." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and test the tender break in her skin. "It's nice so many people are here." She said after a moment. "I'm so glad I'll get to see them once more before I…"

"Stop talking like that." Harry took her by the arms and shook her. "That's not going to happen. You're not going back there."

"Harry…"

"I won't let you."

"Harry…"

"You might be willing to go back there, but I'm not willing to let you. It's not going to happen, Hermione. _I won't let it."_

"And how are you going to prevent it?"

"With my help, of course."

Hermione jerked back in surprise, breaking Harry's hold in the process. She spun around on her heal, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "Parker?"

"Sorry," He apologized with a smile. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. But whatever you two are planning, I'm in."

"Parker," Hermione said his name again, disbelief drawing her forward another step.

The corner of his lip turned up in a smile. "Ms Granger," he held out his arms and Hermione found herself enveloped in them. She chocked on a sob while tears escaped and ran down her cheeks, wetting his robes where they pooled. "Hey now," he said lifting her feet off the floor as he hugged her close. "What's this? You're not falling apart on me now, are you?"

"I'm sorry," She chocked, pulling back. "I didn't think you'd be here as well."

"Come now, Hermione." His arms tightened, as he shared a look over her head with Harry. "Where else would I be?"

"I thought…well… I thought you'd be with… Ron." She looked up into his face, blinking back her tears. "Why aren't you with him?"

Parker's lips tensed into a tight purse. "Hm… Let's just say he and I had a difference in opinion."

Harry's scowl deepened.

"What was it about?"

Parker fused with the curls around her face, trying to tuck them back behind her ear only to have them fall back forward, each strand too knotted and clumped to behave. "That's not important right now." He tried to guide her around so that she was facing both Harry and himself but she protested with a jerk of her arm.

"Parker," she demanded. "What were you and Ron fighting about?"

The reluctance in his eyes and the sad, disappointed down turn of his lips told her. "Me. You were fighting about me again. I've come between you two, again, haven't I?"

"It's not like that." Parker objected.

"Isn't it? You mean to tell me that you and Ron weren't fighting about me and whether or not you should come here today? And you chose me. Which means he's going to feel betrayed by you, again. You have no idea what you've done."

"I know exactly what I've done, Hermione. I'm a big boy now. I'm perfectly capable of rationalizing my own decisions. Besides, Ron doesn't even know I'm here. How could? I haven't seen or spoken with him since we ran into Harry on Atocha. I have no idea where he is or what's he's been doing. Nothing to help you, I'm sure. He won't answer my owls, he's blocked his floo connection and he has his house warded. So yes, he and I are having a little bit of a difference in opinion at the moment. And even if we weren't I would still be here. So, if you two are planning anything," he looked between the two. "I'm in. No matter what it is."

"I think any thought of planning is going to have to wait." Harry's head was turned to the front of the room where Asnath glared impatiently back at them and the Official had just entered the court room. "We better take our seats."

Eyes frantic, Hermione reached for his hand, her fingers interlocking with his.

"It's alright." He squeezed her fingers before tugging her forward. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I." Parker took her other hand.

Hermione looked at the two men, emotions clogging her throat. After a moment she nodded and together they walked forward.

* * *

Blake sat contentedly in Ron's lap, tugging on the large button holding his cloak closed, trying to pull the round wafer into her mouth. When she couldn't make the button reach she leaned forward and brought her mouth to it. She gnawed on the bit of mettle for a moment before leaning back, shaking it several times, than leaning in again.

Smiling, Ron relaxed into the armchair, one arm held protectively around his daughter's middle, precaution against any sudden change in the bus's momentum. He watched Blake with a content smile on his face. If it made her happy he'd let her eat all the buttons he owned. And when those were gone he'd go and purchase more.

Sighing, he turned his head to look out the window and gage how far away from home they were. He recognized a long row of low rock wall and the pasture behind it and knew they weren't far.

The bus made a long turn in the road and the sun flooded through the window, blinding him. Ron put up a hand to shield his eyes, frowning at the sun's position in the sky. He hadn't been expecting to return home so early. He'd imagined as soon as his mother saw the little girl in his arms she'd insist they stay for dinner, pudding, possibly even for the night, all in hope of making up for missing time with him and his daughter. But, much to his bewilderment, she hadn't been home. She was always home this time of the day. As was his father. Ever since the war Arthur had taken to coming home at his midday break to have a meal with his wife. Ron had specifically chosen to arrive at the Burrow around noon so that he could tell both his mother and father the good news together.

Needles to say he'd been more than a little surprised to arrive and find that not only was his father not home, but his mother was absent as well. Thinking that perhaps today his mother had gone into the city to meet his father, or that she'd momentarily stepped out of the house on an errand, Ron had waited an hour and a half for her return. As the second hour drew closer to an end he'd written his mother a note, letting her know he'd stopped and would return later, and left, hailing down the Knight Bus and taking off for home.

He could only imagine the reunion in store when he returned that evening. Molly'd grab Blake out of his arms and smother her in thousands of kisses and wouldn't let Ron have her again until he was forced to take her away in order to leave. That of course was the primary reason the Burrow had not been the first stop after leaving St. Mungos the night before. He'd wanted time alone with his daughter, before he was forced to share her with the rest of the family. To reconnect. To just stare at her and hold her in his arms and know that she was safe and sound. Forever. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. He'd keep her safe forever, or dye trying. His heart picked up a beat. No one was ever going to take her away from him again.

Ron's arm tightened reflexively around Blake's middle. Even now he couldn't bare the idea of letting anyone else hold her, even if they were a member of his family. Actually, he imagined it would be quite some time before he trusted people to be alone with her and not expect them to flee with her the moment his back was turned.

Gently Ron's arm tightened, easing Blake forward until she was nestled right against his chest. He'd been without her for so long…he hadn't realized how empty his arms felt until he had her comforting weight back in them.

A smile turned up the corners of his lips as he remembered the night before and Winifred trying to convince him to put Blake down long enough to sign the adoption papers. He managed just fine without. The way he felt at the moment, like she would be safe nowhere but in his arms, she's be lucky is she learned to walk before the age of four.

Blake leaned back away from his chest again and tried once more to pull the button free of his cloak. She gave a squeal of indignation, flailing her hand. The wet button slipped free of her fingers and she screeched, lurching forward to attack it with her mouth again.

Ron laughed as he bent his head and kissed her hair, closing his eyes with content.

The bus made another wild turn, causing the armchair to slide across the floor and stop only when it reached the other wall of the bus. "Finally." Ron said under his breath, bending to the side to reach for the nappy tote tucked under the legs of the chair. He felt the momentum of the bus shift again and he clutched Blake protectively to his chest as the breaks screamed and the bus skidded to a halt.

"There we are." Ron said, getting to his feet. "Home, safe and sound."

He wove his way through the scattered seats to the back of the bus where a man with yellow blond hair waved them off, whishing them a good day. As soon as they were clear of the bus it jerked back into a motion and only just cleared him when with a bang it jumped and disappeared, leaping half way across the country to its next location.

Cursing under his breath Ron turned left towards his house. He hadn't taken a full step when he stopped. His body tensed, ready for flight. Someone was sitting, in what had to be a conjured chair, at the exact location he knew his wards ended. Uncertain if his visitor was friend or foe he debated recalling the Knight Bus.

Before he could decide whether to stick out his thumb or not, the person turned in his direction. He recognized instantly the face looking back at him which had him sighing with relief. He rolled his eyes as he moved into step. How could he have not recognized who it was? There was only one person he knew outside his family with hair that colour, and hers had the distinct quality of being curly, not straight.

He watched her lips separate into a smile as he drew closer and he picked up his step.

"Bernie," he called, lifting a hand in greeting. "What are you doing here?"

Bernie rose lightly from the seat, banishing the chair with a lazy flick of her wand. "I told you," she said, tucking her wand away, "I was off today and would be stopping for a visit." The wind picked up, blowing her free hair into her face. She used her fingers to comb it back out of her eyes and hold it place at the crown of her head. "Did you know," she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, "that you have a wicked strong ward around your house?"

"Yeah," Ron said with a laugh. "I should think so. I put it there."

"Oh," her eyes widened, impressed. "It wasn't there the last time I was here."

Ron nodded his head toward the babbling child in his hand. "Things have changed since the last time you were here."

"Clearly," She grinned back. "That would explain these, of course." She held out a hand full of post. "I hope you don't mind. The owls looked exhausted."

"No," Ron sighed, reaching for the stack. "That's fine." He quickly stuffed the bundle into the nappy tote. "I suppose it needed to be done."

"So," she said turning with him as he passed, "I decided that with all the excitement, what with bringing little Blake here home, you haven't had time to cook yourself a proper meal." She hurried ahead a few steps and scooped up a large box sitting on the ground. She turned to Ron with a smile, giving the box a gentle shake. "I made a chicken with a side of mash," she looked down in the box, "a dozen rolls and fresh green beans. You'll have to cook those," she said looking up, juggling the box into a more comfortable position, "but I didn't think you'd mind. They're best if you haven't let them sit."

Ron breathed in slowly through his nose, savoring the heavenly sent seeping through the box opening. "It smells delicious. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She beamed.

"You'll be joining me, of course." He offered when the silence lingered a little too long.

She grinned at him guiltily, her nose scrunching slightly on the sides. "I was hoping…"

"Of course you were." Ron said brightly as he stepped past, shifting Blake's weight into one arm, freeing the other to pull his wand.

Bernie watched, head tipped to one side, as Ron went about removing the more powerful wards that protected his property. She was impressed. He was confident in his movements, adept at the spells. And if the charge in the air was any indication, his magic was exceptionally strong. It was a good thing she hadn't tried apperating directly to the house. Coming up against that barrier without warning would have left her flat on her back and in loads of pain.

"There," Ron said, lowering his wand. "You should be able to get through now."

Shifting her fingers under the edge of the box so that she had a stronger hold, Bernie followed Ron through, fighting not to wince until she was clear. She felt only a moments resistances, like the air had become momentarily thicker, but had no trouble beyond that.

"What type of ward was that?"

"That," Ron said with a satisfied smirk, "is an interesting little charm I learned from Bill, my brother. It's very tricky to cast, very difficult to get right."

Bernie rolled her eyes at the back patting Ron was giving himself. "Yes, but what does it _do_?"

"It judges the intentions of the person trying to pass. If their intention if pure, they can proceed. If not…" he cocked his head, "they should get tossed back on their arse. It should work nicely for my purposes."

"Which is?"

"To keep out the press."

Bernie nodded her head back the way they had come. "Was that the reason behind the more powerful ones?"

"Partly." He shrugged before he took the two steps up to his front door. "There were also a few members of my family who I wasn't ready to see."

Bernie's surprise halted her step a moment as she looked up at him. Knowing what she did about Ron and his family she found that last bit of information more than a little surprising. "I'm sure that's an interesting story." She hedged, stepping onto the stoop beside him.

Ron shrugged dismissively as the door opened. "You're off today? Why are you here with me when you could be off with friends or family of your own?"

"Because," she squeezed through the gap between him and the door, ducking under his arm, "they all have jobs that actually require them to be at work on a week day." She looked up at him pointedly, one brow arched high, before she moved on towards his kitchen.

"I'm taking a few days off." He called after her as he closed the door.

"And how long is a few days exactly?" She asked with her back against the kitchen door. "When do you intend to go back?" She stepped backwards, pushing it open with her foot and catching it with her back to hold it open wide for him.

"I don't know yet. Do you need some help?" He asked, eyeing the box.

"No." She stepped away from the door as soon as he passed, letting it swing close. "You go sit down." She brought the box to the counter and heaved it up. She pulled her wand and with a flick the food stuffs rose out of the box and soared through the air to the refrigerator where they would wait until they were needed.

That done, Bernie turned and leaned her hip against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes narrowed as they swept over the room, lips pursing the more she stared. "This place is a mess." She scowled, eyeing the pile of unclean dishes in the sink.

"Yeah," Ron flushed, kicking his feet up into the seat of the chair across the table from him. "I've had other things on my mind."

"I could…"

"I can clean my own house, thanks." He snapped, cutting her off before she could finish the offer, face flushing with heat.

Bernie shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting back to the dishes. "At least let me do the washing up."

Ron's scowl deepened.

"Alright. Alright." She put up her hands, deliberately turning her back on the sink. "Using magic it would only take me a minute. But I'll just sit here," she pulled out the chair and sat, "minding my own business." Crossed her arms. "Trying not to look..."

Rolling his eyes, Ron drew his wand from the pocket of his coat and jabbed it at the dishes. Instantly the basin began to fill with warm, sudsy water and then, as if a pair of invisible hands were at work, a rag plunged into the water and began scrubbing the first plate.

"Better?" He asked, setting his wand down.

"Much." She beamed, lifting one foot comfortably onto the chair with her, pulling her leg against her body. She settled her chin on the top of her knee and watched as Ron turned Blake so that she was facing towards him and held her hands so that she could sit up and face him. Contorting his face into a ridiculous expression he bent both his knees slightly and began bouncing her gently. The little girls eyes lit up and her bubbly laughter filled the kitchen.

Bernie's smile grew. "You're so good with her."

Ron didn't look when he answered, focused solely on entertaining Blake. "She is my daughter."

"Still," she persisted, "for a first time father."

"What does that have to do with anything?" He finally pulled his eyes away from Blake to look at Bernie. "I'm a father. She's my daughter. I want to spend time with her." He continued to bounce her gently.

"I only meant…well, it took my brother-in-law a lot longer to be comfortable holding his first than you seem to be holding yours.

"I'm a Weasley," he said almost dismissively, returning his focus to Blake. "Family is our thing. Or haven't you heard?" His lip smirked sarcastically, "we breed like rabbits."

Bernie's skin instantly stained a deep red. Immediately she ducked her head, hiding her face from Ron behind a curtain of red curls. She bit her lip as she tugged on a single strand, watching it bounce back into a tight twist when she released it. "So, where were you?" She asked, trying to relieve her discomfort by changing the subject. "I would have thought you'd stay into today. You know…considering…"

"I went to the Burrow. Wanted to share the good news with mum and dad." His bouncing knees slowed to a stop. "I wanted to tell them myself before they learned about it from someone else." His brow furrowed deep. "But they weren't home when I got there. A bit odd really. Mum's always home during the day."

Bernie's face smoothed into a look of confusion. "You sound a bit worried."

"Of course I am." Ron took Blake under the arms and lifted her against his chest. "Do you have any idea how upset my mother's going to be when she learns she missed seeing Blake today? She's going to be a tyrant. And do you know how difficult it was for me to go over there today to begin with? All I want to do is pack up my things and run. Somewhere far away where no one can ever get their hands on Blake again."

"Well," Bernie's foot slid off the chair and landed on the floor with a loud thud as she moved to the edge of her seat. "Why don't you?"

"What?"

Bernie reached out to put a hand on his arm. "Why don't you run with her?" She nodded her head towards the door, "Take her and go. Get away from all of this madness for a while. Give yourself some time to think. No one would blame you. After everything that's happened to you both," she shook her head, "no one would think less of you for wanting to hide her away."

Ron cocked his head, considering for a moment. "Perhaps I will." He agreed. "But I have a few things here I need to take care of first." He said slowly.

Bernie nodded, trying to hide the unwarranted relief she felt with a look of understanding. She forced herself to look him in the eyes, trying to clear her mind of her unconscious thoughts. Now was not the time.

"Yes," she said absently, mind beginning to focus. "There's a lot you'll have to do. Tell your family. Sign some papers. Release a statement to the press."

"Like hell I will." Ron sat up, feet slamming to the floor. "The press has been driving me mad trying for an interview. Why would I willingly give them any information about Blake or myself?"

"Blake?" Bernie's brow furrowed with confusion. She sat forward. "I…I wasn't talking about Blake."

Ron's eyes narrowed on her face. "Then what…"

"I thought you'd want to…" She twirled a lock of hair around her right pointer finger, "I mean to say…" she bit at her lip. "You…you did make a decision…didn't you?"

"A decision about what?" Ron rolled his eyes with exasperation when she didn't immediately answer. "Merlin's beard, Bernie. Spit it out, would you? Did I make a decision about what?"

Bernie's tongue slid across her dry lips, wetting them. "About what we talked about?"

Ron encouraged her with a look.

"That day in the underground." She looked awkwardly about. "About…_her._" Bernie had to look away. It felt like bands had strapped around her heart and it was making it hard to breath. "About…Hermione?"

"Hermione?" Ron sat back surprised. "What about Hermione?"

"I just assumed…" She stammered. "I mean you didn't show up to testify the other day… and you're not there today… I thought you'd made your decision…you know…about what we talked about."

"Testify?" Ron's lips formed the word, but there was no air to push it out. It had all poured out of him in a moment of surprise. "Her trial?"

Bernie nodded. "They're making closing arguments today." She confirmed. "Probably right now as we speak."

Her heart sped up as his face drained of all colour. He sat there a moment, frozen like a statue as his mind raced ahead, his thoughts and emotions overwhelming him until he couldn't think. He blinked at her several times before he moved.

"I have to go." He was on his feet in an instant. "I have to go, now." He said again, tuning one way and then the other. "Where do I…" He looked down at his daughter, arms tightening reflexively, than up at Bernie, his face a riot of conflicting emotions. His breath came labored, the muscles in his arms bunched as they tensed. "Would you?" He asked, after several deep breaths. He took step towards her. Than another. "Would you watch her for me…please?"

"What?" Bernie asked, shocked. "Why?" She put out her arms as Ron handed her the child. "Where are you going?" She asked, though Merlin help her, she already knew the answer.

Ron didn't respond. He bent his head to press a kiss to Blake's cheek, than without missing a step, turned and broke into a sprint.

Bernie hesitated a moment, her thoughts at war with each other, before grabbing the nappy bag and following Ron at a run.

The trip to the Ministry was a blur for Ron, one moment he was standing at the edge of his property the next he was standing in front of a lift, pounding the palm of his hand against the call button, striking it a few more time when a gate didn't immediately open. The ride in the lift was excruciatingly long and the sprint down the hallway even longer. The doors to the courtroom flew open before him, eliciting shouts of surprise and outrage from the witches and wizards standing in the back. There was an unnaturally synchronized groan of old wood as the entire room turned as one to learn the cause of disruption.

For one split second Ron feared he'd walked headfirst into a trap set just for him. The room exploded into a roar of sound and light, blinding him through his closed eye lids. Only when he heard the pang of used bulbs hitting the floor did he realize the blinding flashes of light were from press cameras. Fantastic, he thought, walking blindly forward, trying to push his way through the crowd. This was just what he needed. As if he hadn't dealt with the press enough already.

"Captain Weasley," A voice rose over the tumult from somewhere beyond the blinding white light. "I was wondering if we would be seeing you." Ron made a final push and crossed the press line. With the flashing bulbs at his back he could finally see. He took a moment to straighten his robes before he made his way to the half wall that separated the proceedings from the rest of the room.

The Official, a tall woman with gray hair pulled back in a non-nonsense, but somehow still flattering bun, frowned at him with disapproval. "We expected you here some days ago, Captain Weasley."

"I'm sorry, Your Honor," Ron continued to move forward, ignoring his mother hissing his name or the eyes of his family watching him so intently. "I only learned just now this trial was in process." One brow arched high on the Official's brow. "Which is no excuse, of course." Ron hastened to add. "I realize how poor of an excuse that sounds, but sadly it's the only one I have."

"Unfortunately for you, Captain Weasley," Olivia Endor sat forward in her seat, hands folded gracefully on her bench, "I was just about to deliver my verdict."

"Please, Your Honor," Ron raised his voice to he heard over the rise in commotion behind him. "Before you make your decision, there are a few things I believe you should know."

"Is that so?" Endor's eyes rounded with interest. "And what are these things, exactly?"

"Your Honor," The Wizard sitting behind the prosecution table stood, "Closing arguments have been made. The Defense cannot be allowed to enter further evidence..."

"I'm not here to speak on behalf of the Defense," several people gasped behind him. If he were listening closer he could make out his mothers words, though her tone left him certain she was scolding him. It was the emaciated figure he saw disappear further into her chair from the corner of his eye that caught him. Without meaning too Ron's head jerked to the left and almost as quickly away again. He shifted uncomfortably, passing his weight from his left foot to his right. He could hardly recognize the girl sitting there. Pushing the image out of his head, Ron forced himself to focus on the task at hand. "I wish to speak on behalf of my daughter."

"You don't have a daughter." A sharp voice cracked over the crowd, silencing the mounting din. The room turned as one again, this time to face a woman sitting in a seat near the back. Jillian Oldham rose to her feet, chin tipped defiantly, a glare filled with detestation fixed on Ron. "The court does not recognize your claim on the Blythe baby. Which means you have no legal right to that child."

Ron stared at her a moment in stony silence, his eyes boring into her like finely tuned blades. "Actually," he turned back to the bench only when Jillian averted her eyes, "if your Honor will allow me to approach the bench?" Olivia Endor stared at him a silent moment before motioning him forward. Ron used his hip to swing open the half door set in the wall. He reached deep into his pocket and extracted a sheet of folded paper shaking it by the corner when it was free to open it. He smoothed flat the creases as he set the parchment on Endor's bench. "I think you'll find that well in order."

Olivia Endor bent her head, her eyes still on Ron as she lifted her reading glasses from the top of her head and placed them gingerly on her nose. She took up the parchment, her lips moving silently as she read through the document. She angled the parchment away from her, better to read the bottom half. Her eyes widened at the signature scrawled across the bottom. Her eyes met with Ron's. He nodded. "I see," she. She folded the parchment and handed it back to him. "I hardly see how that changes these proceedings, Captain Weasley."

"I believe it changes everything, Your Honor. "Slowly Ron turned until he was facing his family. He drew in a slow breath. Mum, Dad." He watched him mum reach for her husband's hand. "I wanted you both to be the first to know. I made a visit to the Burrow this morning, but you weren't home." He made a quick glance around the room. "Now I realize why. So I'm afraid you're going to have to find out along with everyone else now." He turned back to the judge. "Your Honor, the Delta Squad recovered Blake yesterday afternoon. Abandoned." He had to keep himself from looking back at Harry and Parker, both of whom he knew were sitting with his family. The very thought of what could have happened… His head shook imperceptibly to clear it of the thought. "At the Leaky Caldron. She was returned to me yesterday evening."

The Official's response was drowned out by the uproar in the crowd. Patronuses were suddenly scattering in all directions, the owls soon to follow, bolting from the room as fast as their wings and legs could carry them. Ron knew Blake's return would be headline on every newspaper by morning.

The gavel struck several times as Endor fought to be heard. She struck a few more times, silencing many, slowly drawing the room back in to order. "Everyone," Endor's voice echoed off the walls, Sonorus being used as a last resort to quiet the last few.

"Oh Ronnie," his mother's voice was the last quiet, "Oh Ronnie."

"Molly," Arthur squeezed her hand and shook his head once when she turned to him.

"Everyone back to your seats. This instant." She slammed her gavel one last time. "Another outburst like that and I'll have the entire room cleared. Now, sit down."

Wooden benches groaned as they received the weight of so many bodies. Jillian Oldham was the last to return to her seat, her lips pursed so tight they appeared fused together.

Endor placed her gavel carefully in the corner of her desk. "Where is the child now, Captain Weasley."

"I've asked a friend to mind her while I came here."

"How do we know you're not lying?" Ron turned to the Prosecutor. "Where's your proof?"

"I believe Winfred Edgecombe in the Office of Children and Family Services will be able to verify my story. Shall I call her here?"

"No," Endor held up a hand. "That won't be necessary. Captain Weasley, please continue."

"But, Your Honor…"

"Mr Bomberley," Endor cut off the man sitting behind the Prosecutor's desk. "That will be quite enough." The strength in her gaze brought the prosecution silently back to his seat. "I would like to hear what Captain Weasley has to say. Please Captain," she invited without looking at him, "continue."

"I don't know what else there is to say, Your Honor. You should already have all the evidence you need to dismiss this case." Ron was prepared for the crowds vocals this time and paid them little attention.

"Do I?" The Official asked, her right brow quirked, the barest hint of a smile on her lips.

"Yes, Your Honor." Asnath rose eagerly to her feet, eyes brimming. She looked like a drowning woman offered a rope to safety. "Hermione Granger has been incarcerated for the last month. Her only human contact has been with the Aurors investigating her case, her guards and myself. There is no way she could have orchestrated the child's return."

"That's not entirely true though, is it?" Jillian had made her way to the barrier without anyone having noticed. She smiled sickingly sweet at Ron as she said, "Ms Granger had contact with both you and Captain Potter. I monitored both interviews myself."

"Really," Ron's arms crossed over his chest, purveying confidence as well as putting his well corded muscles on threatening display beneath his robes. "And what kind of information did Ms Granger pass me, exactly?"

"The location of your daughter, or course."

Ron's eyes narrowed into thin slits, the muscles in his biceps tightening. "'What exactly are you implying, Oldham? That I had a part in my daughter's kidnapping?"

"If the wand works." She drew out each word, accentuating them until they rang like an insult.

Ron lowered his arms from his chest, the hands still tightly curled. He leaned forward, putting his intimidating height too good use as he strode towards her. "I have put everything I have into finding my daughter. I've…"

"The Bythe Baby, you mean."

"No." Ron snarled. "I mean _my_ _daughter_." He snapped open the piece of parchment once more. He thrust it in front of her face. "Blake is mine. She has been from the very beginning. And magic recognized that at her naming ceremony. She is bound to me, to my heart, to my blood, by magic. As you can see here, the court has recognized that." He held the page aloft, like a beacon for the courtroom to see. "This document, this _legal_ document, says that Blake is mine. That she has been all along. So you will call her by her name. Blake. Kinley. Weasley.

"And as for your ridiculous suggestion that I had anything to do with her disappearance," he folded the parchment slowly, menacingly, "I have put everything I have into finding her. I nearly compromised my position with the Aurors, with my family, with my friends, all in order to get her back. I have run myself and my team into the ground trying to find her. I haven't slept in weeks because I couldn't stop thinking about her. Worrying, never knowing if she was alright. If she was scared. If something had happened to her. You have no idea what it feels like to have your child missing and being powerless to do anything about it. You have no idea what it's like to come to terms with the fact that you might not ever see your daughter again, or that if you do…she most likely won't be alive. So when I tell you that I had nothing to do with my daughter's disappearance, I expect you to believe me." He drew in a long shallow breath, trying to force some of the tension out of his body through his fingertips. He turned slowly to the front, eyes moving past the woman sitting shrunken in a tight ball in her seat. He let the breath out. "And as much as I can't believe I'm saying this… neither did Hermione Granger." There was a spattering if whispers but no one seemed to be brave enough to raise their voice any higher than that. "She's innocent, Your Honor. You have to see that."

"No." Jillian shrieked, slamming her hand down on the banister. "Hermione Granger is guilty. Guilty. She orchestrated the whole thing. Along with Harry Potter."

No bulbs flashed. No quills scratched on parchment. Every person in the room seemed to be holding their breath. Waiting. No one knowing how to respond.

The silence stretched until a thump was heard towards the back of the courtroom followed by the grunt of an old witch, her blue hair pilled on the top of her head in a nest of curls, as she struggled to her feet. She thumped her cane against the floor again, the glower in her eyes making it a threat. She glared at Jillian over her half-rimmed glasses, her lips pursed in an angry scowl. "Shame on you." Her voice cracked with rage. "Shame on _you_. How _dare_ you?" She thumped her cane again. "How dare you accuse Harry Potter? That boy," she used her cane to point at him, nearly hitting the head of the person sitting in front of her, "that boy is a hero. And so is Hermione Granger." She lowered the cane to the floor, rapping it once more. "Have you forgot what they've done? Have you forgot what they've sacrificed? For us? For you? Shame on you. Shame on you for even suggesting that Potter, Granger or Weasley would conspire together to break the law. Shame on you." She thumped her cane on the floor one last time before sitting and folding her hands over the head in finality, the pose seeming to break the spell holding the crowd in rapture. Witches and wizards were on their feet, shouting and shaking their fists angrily at Jillian. Where before the room had been so utterly silent a mouse wouldn't have escaped unnoticed, now it exploded with sound so overwhelming no individual voice could be heard. Jillian leaned back into the barrier, her eyes widening comically in her face.

Going straight to the Sonorus char this time, Endor rapped her gavel against her bench. "That will do." Wood struck together again. "That will do." Endor pounded her gavel a few more times, slowly quieting the crowd, though some remained on their feet, threat held in the curling of their fingers and the tautness of their muscles. "Ms Oldham." Official Endor placed her gavel carefully in the middle of her bench. "I think it might be best if you took this moment to excuse yourself from the room. I think you may have made yourself some enemies today."

"Today?" A wizard who had drawn courage from the old witch's speech shouted. "Did you read what she did to Granger? Set Dementors on her, she did."

Several voices joined in with the man, shouting swears at Jillian, who still leaned frozen in shock against the barrier.

Snapping to, Jillian straightened her spine. Defiance filled her pose as she tipped her chin up. "If it's all the same to you, Your Honor, I'd like to stay." She glared at the crowd before turning. "I seem to be the only person here not _blinded_ by the Golden Trios fame." She sneered. "I will not allow this court…"

"_You_ will not allow this court?" Endor cut in coldly. "Who exactly gave you the authority in _my_ court to allow anything?"

Jillian's head whipped around, her eyes widening at her blunder. "I only meant…"

"I know exactly what you meant, Captain Oldham." Endor said coldly. "And don't think for one moment I don't know exactly what it is you're trying to do here. Do you think I am unaware of the happenings of the Ministry? I hear the rumors, Captain Oldham. I read the papers. I know that Captains Weasley and Potter were promoted over you. I'm also aware that you have petitioned on several occasions to have the matter reviewed."

Jillian defiantly arched her chin and thrust back her shoulder. "That has absolutely no bearing on the matter."

"Captain Oldham, what did you think was going to happen when you illegally had Hermione Granger incarcerated in maximum security? Her confession is inadmissible because you acquired it under duress. Because that's what it was, Captain Oldham. You used Dementors to torture that girl. And why?" She sat forward in her seat. "Because you had no one who could verify she was exactly where she said she was at the time of the kidnapping?" She took up a stack of papers from the side of her desk. "I've looked over the evidence, Captain Oldham. Thoroughly, I assure you. I wanted to make quite certain the ruling I made was based solely on the facts and not my feelings towards the plaintive. You've given me nothing, Captain Oldham, nothing. The spells recorded through _prior incantantum_ match none of the spells used at the Javed household. You also have given me no explanation for how Ms Granger could have gotten herself in or out of the Ministry without anyone seeing her." She let the stack of paper fall on her desk with a light thud. "Nothing you've shown me can prove she was anywhere but where she said she was that night."

"As I said, she had help."

Endor leaned back in her seat, a sigh rushing from her lips.

"Do you know why Weasley failed to be here when he was summoned? Because he and Parker Gale were in Madrid, Spain. So were Harry Potter, and Fred Weasley. Madrid. The city Hermione Granger resided in for five years. And look what's happened. They return to England and the day after the child is abandoned in the Leaky Caldron? That is not a coincidence."

"Do you have any proof of this?"

"Weasley and Gale took an International Portkey. We can have the records called up immediately."

"That's not necessary, Your Honor." Ron interjected. "I can verify. Parker Gale and I were indeed in Spain."

Endor sat, forward, her hands folded, her face engaged with intrigue. "Really? Might I inquire what you were doing there?"

"What else?" Ron shrugged. "I had similar thoughts to Captain Oldham. I went to Madrid in search of my daughter. And no," he continued before he could be asked. "I did not find her there. It was another dead end."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as he released Ginny's fingers, letting blood rush back into the tips. Ginny stroked the back of his hand, trying silently to soothe him.

Endor seemed to have noticed the movement. "You've been awfully quiet, Captain Potter." She observed.

"I'm sorry, Your Honor," Harry rose awkwardly to his feet, releasing Ginny's hand only when it became awkward to maintain his hold. He took care to keep his face a perfect mask of confusion, playing his part well. "I'm at a loss as to what to say."

"Is what Captain Oldham says true? Were you in Spain, Captain Potter?"

"Yes, Your Honor." There were gasps of shock from the crowd. "But only because Fred asked me to help him." He assured.

"Fred?"

"My brother-in-law." He turned and used his hand to indicate one of the two twins sitting behind him. "Fred Weasley."

Fred saluted jauntily at the Official.

"I see. And what exactly were you helping Mr Weasley with?"

Harry turned to look back at Fred, as if silently asking him for permission, which Fred gave him with a nod.

Harry returned forward. "Supplies, Your Honor."

"Supplies?" She had not been expecting the answer. "What kind of supplies?"

"Er…" Harry turned in place again to look back at Fred, scratching at his head, causing the hair to stand up more crazily in back. "What was that stuff we picked up again?"

"Cuélebre dribble." Fred supplied.

"Right," Harry snapped his fingers while turning back, his nose scrunched with distaste. "Cuélebre dribble." He nodded once for emphasis.

"And what is _Cuélebre__ dribble_?"

"Come now," Fred rose to his feet. "You're joking me?" When the Official continued to stare at him, no trace of humor on her face, Fred whistled low. "All right then. Cuélebre dribble, Your Honor, is the saliva of a Cuélebre. George and I use it in our shop…for various reasons."

"For what exactly?"

"Ahhh…" George said, ticking his tongue as he joined his brother on his feet. "Sorry, Your Honor. No can do." He shook his head, jumping in without missing a beat. "Don't want our competition ferreting out our secrets."

"As a matter of fact," Fred looked around the room, eyeing the quills scribbling across rolls of parchment, "I'm afraid we've already said too much." He continued to turn in a circle as is searching for competition that might have snuck their way into the back corners of the courtroom.

"And why is it you needed to go to Spain to obtain this Culbert dribble?"

"Cuélebre dribble, Your Honor." Fred corrected. "Isn't it obvious? Cuélebre are native to Spain." Harry worked to keep his face impassive while Fred continued. "Very interesting animal, the Cuélebre. Very dangerous. It's no easy task obtaining their spit without killing the animal. One vial costs, well more than we usually make in a month." Fred nodded importantly.

"And why was it necessary for you to bring Captain Potter to acquire… the dribble, when you could have brought your brother?"

"Well, I had to stay at the store." George said, motion to himself.

"And I thought we could benefit from…" Fred waved his hand gently as he tried to find the right words. "Harry's _special_ services."

"Celebrity discount." They said together.

"They're lying." Jillian slammed her fist against the barrier. "I caught them at the home of Beila Covas Callas together. She's a friend of Granger's."

Ron's head jerked up in obvious surprise. "All of us?" He turned to Jillian, head tipped slightly to the right. "I don't recall seeing you in Spain, Ms Oldham."

"Captain."

"Of course." He said glibly. "I'm sorry. With your current suspension it must have slipped my mind."

Jillian's nostrils flared.

"I still don't recall seeing you in Spain."

"It was after you left, Captain." Parker folded his hands behind his back at attention. "As Captain Weasley said," he looked to the Official, "we were already in Spain looking for Blake and I'd met Ms Callas when she came to England to visit Ms Granger. I thought she would want to know what happened to her friend. But…" he turned toward Harry and Fred, "Captain Potter and Mr Weasley had already beat me there."

"Wait a minute here," A slow, gleeful smile slid across George's face. "Don't tell me you followed that bird all the way to Spain." he laughed. He clapped Fred on the shoulder, doubling over slightly. "What a Nancy."

"What can I say," Fred thrust his fingers through his hair jauntily, trying to cover for the flush that spread across the bridge of his nose and his cheek bones. "She's a fit girl with a talented tongue."

George laughed again, this time a few more chuckles joined him.

"Your Honor," Jillian cried, her frustration bring her to the brink of tears. "They're lying." She slammed both hands down on the barrier. "All of them."

"Captain Oldham, control yourself or I'll have you removed."

"It's not fair. You're going to let them get away with it again."

"Captain Oldham," she warned.

"There's nothing to get away with." Ron's stern voice cut in. He pinned Jillian to her place with his eyes. "I've had enough of this. If you refuse to believe that Ms Granger couldn't possibly have kidnapped Blake, try and wrap your head around this. _I_ never reported my daughter missing. A trial is being held for a crime that, technically, hasn't been committed."

"Captain Weasley," Official Endor said in a low voice, "what are you saying?"

"If this court insists on pursuing this ridiculous trial then I'm going to insist on not pressing charges. Hermione Granger is innocent. And I will not let this…" his lip curled with disgust, "woman…use her own personal vendetta to punish an innocent person."

Endor looked at Ron from over her folded hands. "Don't you want the perpetrator caught?"

"Of course I do, Your Honor. There is nothing I want more than to ring that person's neck." Ron refused to turn his head, even an inch, to see if Hermione had reacted. "But it's time for me to face the truth. Blake was left at the Leaky Caldron, a place overrun with magical residue. I couldn't find a trace of my own magic in that place let alone anyone else's. This is the first real trail I've had since Blake disappeared and it's a cold one. And if I'm going to be completely honest, she's home now. She's safe and healthy and she was well taken care of. Who ever took her, I don't think they did it to harm her. I prefer to think they were trying to protect her. In their own sick, twisted, demented way. And I won't ever stop looking for them, Your Honor. I'll find them… But at the moment I'm just happy Blake's home."

Olivia Endor sat back in her seat. Her eyes moved slowly over the filled room, resting on individual faces, her eyes boring into them as if she could see the truth in their eyes. No one moved. No one said a word.

Hermione had closed her eyes. It all came down to this moment. Olivia Endor would decide her fate and… she couldn't begin to imagine what would come after, let alone think about it. Ron coming, speaking on her behalf, had not been what she had expected. She needed to keep her eyes closed, to save herself the torment of looking at him. She couldn't understand why he had done it. It most certainly hadn't been for her sake. Perhaps he'd done it for Harry.

"Well," Olivia Endor sat back in her chair. "This has certainly been an interesting trial. Ms Granger," Hermione opened her eyes and seeing the gentle jerk of the Official's head, rose to her feet, using the arms of her chair to give her the purchase she needed. She braced her hands on the table in front of her to steady herself. "You seem to have many people who care a great deal about you." Her eyes swept over the anxious face seated behind the brown haired witch. "You're very fortunate. And while I feel the truth may have been… finessed slightly, the facts come down to this. There is not sufficient evidence to convict you." Jillian made a sound of protest, "And you," Endor's eyes snapped to Jillian, "Captain Oldham… You have only yourself to blame. We'll never know now if Ms Granger really was guilty of kidnapping Blake Weasley because you botched this investigation so completely. Instead of wasting time having this trial pushed forward you should have done your job and collected the evidence needed to convict the guilty party." She picked up her gavel. "I find Hermione Jean Granger innocent of all charges." She slammed the gavel once. "Ms Granger, you're free to go."

Flashing bulbs lit the room a blinding white. Behind him Ron could hear his mother sob as she reached to pull Hermione into her arms.

Ron turned slowly to his left. His eyes lit momentarily on Hermione before moving past her and catching Harry's. His friend smiled, nodding once in thanks. Ron paused a moment, debating. Letting his breath out in one long sigh, he nodded in return.

"I hope you know this isn't over." Jillian hissed at his ear.

Ron turned sharply, startling her to step back in surprise. Disgust contorted his features as his muscles bunched and his spine straightened. He took advantage of his considerable height and musculature to stand over her, cowing her with his presences. "You're right. I feel it's only right to give you fare warning. I'll be personally heading the investigation into your practices. I don't imagine you'll be with the Ministry much longer."

Jillian's face screwed up in fury. She drew back and let loose with a slap that sent his head jerking to the side. She spat at his feet before turning briskly and pushing her way through the crowd, ignoring the calls and threats being thrown at her from the crowd.

Ron rubbed tenderly at his cheek as he tried to hide his satisfaction. He would enjoy taking her down. With a chuckle he turned…and stopped cold.

His hand dropped from his face.

Brown eyes stared at him hollowly from inside a shrunken face. Hermione. Seeing her properly for the first time in weeks… he very nearly blanched. He could hardly recognize the person staring out at him from behind those eyes. It couldn't be… not … He wanted to look away, but couldn't. They stared at each other, blue eyes into brown. Neither moving. Neither breathing. Something heavy settled on his chest, turning the bile in his stomach.

"Ron," thankful for a reason to look away he followed the sound of his name and his face lip up. Bernie wove her way through the crowd towards him, Blake held comfortably at her right hip. She smiled back, tossing her hair out of her eyes, as she turned sideways to squeeze between two broad shouldered men.

"Bernie," Ron greeted as he reached for Blake. "What what are you doing here?" He nestled the baby into his arms, pressing kisses to her face. "I thought you were going to wait at the house."

"I followed you." She smiled sheepishly as she pulled her hair back out of her face, using a band from around her wrist to tie it back. "I needed to know what happened…" The words faded as she watched Ron turn. She stepped to the side to see around him and, knowing already what she would find, followed his line of sight to where Hermione had been standing moments before. "You made your decision."

Ron didn't answer immediately. He'd watched as Harry and Parker had slipped out of the courtroom through the side door, presumably to follow Hermione. "It was the right thing to do." He said absently.

"She could've at least stopped to thank you before she left." Bernie said stiffly. "She at least owes you that." Her eyes moved past him to the Weasleys descending upon them. "I should go." She said taking a step back. "Your family is coming." She turned, ready to flee.

"Bernie," Ron's hand landed on her arm, halting her.

She looked down at the hand gripping her, refusing to look up into his vibrant blue eyes.

"Thank you."

Bernie forced her face into a neutral expression, making her lips smile as naturally as she could. "We're friends, aren't we."

Ron looked between his family and her. "You made me dinner."

Bernie swallowed, and waved her hand. "Forget about it."

"No." His fingers gripped her the tiniest bit tighter. "I'll make it up to you."

"You don't have to do that." She protested, shaking her head.

"I want to." He released her as he stepped back to make room for his fmaily. "I'll owl you." His family enveloped him before he could get her answer.


	32. Times Up

Hello Everyone,

I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for sticking with me. You are far more gracious than you should be. Life unfortunately get's in the way and I don't have as much time to write as I wish I did. But I'm much better now than I have been. I like my new job, which means I'm in a better mental state. And my back is doing better. More goodness. But anyway, it's finally done and I really hope you all like it. I have to say I am so worried. But it's past time.

Thank you all, I love you.

Noterwomann

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Two: Times Up

For one moment the desperate plea in Harry's voice made Hermione falter and nearly stop. She almost turned - almost waited for Harry to catch her up - almost waited for him to wrap his arms around her - almost… but she didn't. As much as she wanted to be back in the comfort and safety of Harry's arms, she couldn't allow herself that luxury. She knew Harry loved her and supported her unconditionally, which made it far too easy to hope … and hope was a very dangerous slope to be climbing. One wrong step and she could fall back into that pit of despair.

Her entire body quivered as she struggled to keep the memory of the Dementors' touch from running her over. She could feel it there, lurking on the perimeters of her mind. The only thing keeping it at bay was the knowledge of her freedom and that her plan had worked. Ron and Blake were reunited. That sweet little girl was safe. If only her mind could convince her heart it was all worth it in the end.

Hermione could feel herself start to sink as the knowledge of what she'd lost pricked away at her conviction. She was only saved by Harry calling her name again, drawing her back to the task at hand. She needed to get out of there. All too soon the reporters would discoverer where she'd gone and then she would never get away.

Harry called her name again and a wizard walking alongside her glanced in her direction. She saw his eyes narrow for a moment in concentration before he reeled back slightly when he recognized her. Hermione ducked her head and pushed forward, humiliation solidifying her decision. She shouldered between two wizards with graying beards, muttering an incomprehensible apology as she passed.

"Hermione." She ignored Harry's plea, quickening her step and turning sideways to slip through a knot of witches numerous enough to block the hall, making it impossible for her to go around. She assumed from the lateness of the hour and the direction they walked that they all were making their way toward the atrium on their way home. Hermione didn't know if she should be thankful for the hour or not. While it might be easy to get lost in a crowd, there would be far less people to run into and recognize her if the halls were empty. Hopefully luck would be on her side and she could get lost in the crowd, allowing her to steal out of the ministry without being noticed.

"Hermione." It was Parker who called after her this time. The timber in his voice rang easily off the sleek tiled walls, drawing the attention of several ministry employees. Heads turned and eyes searched faces. She could tell the moment a younger wizard with warm chestnut hair spotted her. His eyes scrunched for a moment, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, and then his mouth dropped. He reached for his friend's arm, nodded his head toward her and his mouth formed the words. 'Hermione Granger.' Hermione cursed as the others in the hall began to cotton on. An older witch pointed at her and she could feel the blood pool in her cheeks, heating the skin to a dark red. And the group of witches she had passed put their heads together, their eyes trained on her. She didn't know if it was just her imagination, but she could swear the murmurs coming from their knot took on a harsher edge.

Ducking her head to hide her face, she pushed past a witch and wizard who stopped to stare.

Parker called her name again and she stumbled. He sounded closer. Much closer. Too close. She tried to run but the soles of her shoes were so full of grime from the prison that they slipped easily on the smooth tile. "Hermione, stop. Damn it. Would you _please _excuse me?" His voice was sharp with annoyance. He and Harry must have followed her direct path because when she glanced back over her shoulder they were both right behind her.

"Hermione," Harry lunged and his fingers circled her wrist, pulling her to a sharp stop.

The tenuous control Hermione had keeping her demons at bay snapped when her brain recognized the firm, cool bands around her wrists as manacles. A hysterically cry tore from her lungs in full force. She whirled around, the terrifying noise still pouring from her mouth, yanking violently at her trapped wrist like a wild animal caught in a snare. "Let me go." She flailed manically, her voice cracking with panic. "Let me go." Her breath shortened into shallow puffs, increasing her anxiety as it began to deny her brain oxygen. "Let me go!"

Harry stared at her for just a moment before he dropped her hand, lifting both of his into the air as he stepped back. Hermione scuttled away, instinctively putting her back against the wall while she clutched her right hand protectively to her chest. Her eyes fell closed. She'd over reacted. She rubbed tenderly at her wrist while she fought to control her breath.

When she finally lifted her eyes to look at Harry they glistened brightly with unshed tears. "Harry," she chocked on her friend's name. "Harry, I'm sorry…I…" She lowered her eyes in shame, unable to bear looking at him. "I," She blinked and a tear slid down her cheek.

Glaring at the people who stopped to stare, warning them with his eyes that they better get moving, Parker put himself between them and Hermione, using his body to block their view while trying to maintain what he hoped was a comfortable distance. He waited until the last person moved on, still whispering, before he ducked his head and lowered his voice, "Hermione," his eyes were narrowed with concern. "Why did you run? Couldn't you hear us calling?"

Hermione opened her mouth but couldn't find the right words. She tried again, but could only shake her head.

Harry tentatively took back the step he had put between them, watching for a change in her body language that would warn him he was too close. "Are you alright?"

"What a stupid question." Parker scowled. "Of course she's not alright." He flung a hand in her direction. "Look at her. She's trembling."

Hermione looked down at herself and saw to her horror that he was right. Her body was shaking. Why hadn't she noticed? Fingers tightening into curls, she forced her body to straighten. She wouldn't let them see her cower. Any of them. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She lifted a hand to scrape hair back out of her eyes but found the task nearly impossible. Her hands refused to cooperate and stop shaking and her hair clung to her fingers as she scrapped it back, separating into stringy tangles. She desperately needed to bathe.

Hermione extracted her fingers and forced her back away from the wall. "No, I'm fine." The quiver in her voice belayed the lie. "Really."

Parker's eyes narrowed as he looked her over, starting at her scuffed shoes, the rumpled, unclean slacks and blouse and finally the stretched, hollow paler of her skin. His lips thinned into a hard line. "Hermione," his eyes softened, "You are most definitely not fine. When was the last time you looked in a mirror? You look terrible."

"Parker," Harry snapped.

"When was the last time you ate?" He continued as though Harry hadn't spoken. "Or slept?"

"Parker," Harry grabbed his arm and turned him, "that's enough."

"What?" Parker jerked his arm free. "I'm just trying to make a point."

Harry said something in response, but Hermione didn't hear him. Her head was tipped forward, looking down at what she was wearing. She held the fabric away from her skin, pinched between two fingers. Parker was right. She did look like hell. She probably smelled worse. Not that she could really tell the difference anymore. For a moment she feared the smell of the prison would be permanently etched into her brain, but truth be told it hardly mattered. Like the other prisoners she learned to ignore the smell long ago. It was either that or go mad from the stench.

Hermione shook her head to clear it. She put up both hands between the two men, signaling them to stop. "Okay, I'm not fine. Clearly." She closed her hands into fists so they wouldn't see the tremble in her fingers." Can we settle for better then I could be?"

Not waiting for a response or to see if either man followed, Hermione turned on her heal and continued on the path she'd been on before they'd stopped her. She kept close to the wall, the back of her right hand skimming along the cold, black marble. She lifted her head and gazed up into the shadows of the familiar tilled ceiling. How many times had she walked these very halls? How many proceedings had she been a part of in the very room she'd just fled? She should feel right at home and comfortable in this space. But she didn't. She couldn't. The halls felt alien and foreboding. And big. They felt so terribly big. The wall at the end of the hallway felt unnaturally far away and the ceiling felt too high. The walls should be closer, the ceiling lower. And the people walking the halls, they set her nerves on edge. It took all of her concentration not to jump every time a door opened or a person exited their office.

"Hermione," She heard the quick fall of Harry's step on the gleaming tiles as he hurried to catch her up. She felt instant gratitude for his presences. A human escort was something familiar. Something she understood and expected. "Where are you going?"

Hermione shook her head, stumbling forward as she tried to pick up her speed. "I need…" she bit painfully at her bottom lip, looking widely around. "Harry, I need to get out of here. I need…"

Her toe caught on the edge of a tile and her body lurched forward out of her control. Two pairs of hands caught her at the elbows and pulled her back to her feet before she'd landed. Harry released her the moment she was steady on her feet and with tentative care stepped in front of her, hands placed carefully on the upper part of her arms. "Are you all right?" Hermione nodded. "Are you hurt?" She shook her head. Satisfied Harry retook his place beside her, resting his hand uncertainly on the small of her back. When she didn't flinch away he relaxed and let it sit more firmly. "Right," He looked quickly around them, his eyes meeting Parker's. The other man nodded. "Let's go."

"Wait," Hermione dug in her heals, the filthy rubber doing little to stop her progress on the brightly waxed tile. "Where are you taking me?" She nearly stumbled again but the two men were there to steady her. "Will you two stop that?" She flung her arms back, knocking their hands away. She turned to face them, tilting her chin up in what she hoped was a determined angle. "I'm not so far gone that I can't manage to walk on my own. And I don't need an escort." She prayed they didn't see the lie for what it was. "I can take care of myself. And furthermore, before I do anything or go anywhere I need to stop in the Auror office to retrieve my wand. I'm not leaving without it."

Both men, perhaps without realizing it, reached for their own wands, needing the physical connection with the familiar wood, unconsciously affected by the idea of having it taken from them.

Hermione's eyes lingered on the pocket where Parker's wand lay hidden, an ache filling her chest with want of her own. There was no way to describe the agony that had ripped through her when they took her wand away, knowing there was a chance she would never see it again. That in all likeliness it would be snapped, rendering it useless. In a sick way it was like watching them take away her dearest friend, a part of her, an extension of her own body, and being utterly helpless to do anything to stop it. Her breath quickened at the memory, and her heart thumped erratically against her chest.

But she was free now and there was nothing stopping her from marching into that office and getting her wand back. Her heart soared momentarily at the thought. She was so close, the tips of her fingers fairly tingled with the magic waiting to escape and do her bidding. She couldn't stand another moment of this agony. How had Hagrid survived so long without his wand? How had he survived the majority of his life without that simple comfort?

Hermione took off again, this time at quicker pace.

"Hermione," Parker sounded exasperated as he sprinted after her, Harry on his heels. "Would you wait for us, please?"

"It's alright," she waved them off. "I'm really fine. You go ahead."

"No," Harry fell into step beside her. "You're not fine and I'm coming with you."

"So am I."

Hermione turned the corner and spotted the lifts. Her heart leapt, but with joy this time. Freedom was just a few short rides on the lift away. "That isn't necessary." She said absently. "I can find my own way."

"Hermione," Harry rushed to put himself ahead of her again. He put up his hands to stop her and she slid to a halt on the smooth floor. He placed both hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Hermione," he waited for her to lift her chin and meet his gaze. "It is necessary." His fingers tensed around her shoulders. "Whether or not you need to be with me right now, I need to be with you." His head tipped forward, hiding his eyes. He opened his mouth and shut it. He opened it again, "I…" He finally looked at her, and the tears that gathered there magnified the pain behind the bright green orbs. "I was so…scared…that I wouldn't," he swallowed. "What if…" He took a few shallow breaths. "You understand that you almost lost, don't you?"

Hermione flinched at the words, not wanting to acknowledge them. "Yes Harry," her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. "I do."

"So if you try I think you can understand why I'm not really willing to let you go off on your own just yet." He lifted his hand and rested his fingers carefully against the frail skin of her cheek. "I really didn't understand just how close we were to..." His fingers tensed. "I feel like such an idiot. I thought…"

Hermione placed her hand on top of Harry's, holding it there against her skin. "You're not the only one, Harry." She spoke the words so quietly he had to lean forward to hear them. "I was conceited enough to think my celebrity would protect me too. It's all right. You did everything right."

"I didn't."

"You did everything you could. You got me out of maximum security and,"

"But I didn't." Harry pulled his hand away. "By the time I heard and went to Kingsley he'd already been informed and took care of it."

Hermione's eyes rounded in surprise. They left Harry's to look over his shoulder at Parker who stood just behind. Understanding the unspoken question he shook his head. "I couldn't get a meeting with Shakelbolt. I don't have that kind of influence."

"Then who… Would… would, a…"

"Ron?" Parker sneered. "No. He made it perfectly clear when Thomas Peel came to us that he had no intention of helping you. The bloody prick."

Hermione closed her eyes as fresh pain she didn't know she could feel anymore washed over her. "No." She shook her head, opening her eyes to look back at Parker. "Don't say that. Ron had no reason to help me."

"He had every reason to help you."

"You don't know what I said to him."

"I don't _care_ what you said to him."

"He still should have helped you, Hermione." When her eyes met Harry's she saw they were bright with indignant fury. "It's called common decency?"

"Harry," she released his name on a haggard breath. "I'm sure Ro… I'm sure he did what was right for him. But it doesn't really matter." She took another breath. "You got Blake home safe. That's what this was all about."

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's chest, staring at the place between her thumb and index finger. She focused there as she drew another breath, grappling with her unraveling emotions and conflicting desires. "You should go back, Harry." She gave him a slight shove. "Ron will be wondering where you are."

He paused for a moment before he placed his hand over hers. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go with you instead."

Hermione couldn't look at him, not willing to risk him seeing the longing in her eyes. "What about Ginny?" She pulled her fingers from beneath his hand and subconsciously touched her cheek, remembering the last time she'd seen her friend. "I don't think she'd approve…"

Harry shook his head. "You have it wrong. Ginny feels terrible about what happened. She told me…"

Hermione shook her head. "She was right to be angry. I made her a promise and I broke it."

"Hermione, stop it." Harry took her by both arms and shook her slightly. "Stop it. Stop apologizing. Just stop. You don't need to apologize for this. Ever. Do you understand?"

"But I…"

"Stop." his voice rose in anger. "This isn't you. This isn't the Hermione Granger I know. This is not the girl who unapologetically punched Malfoy in the mouth. And who stole a condemned Hippogriff. And who set Sirius Black free. Or who broke into the Department of Mysteries. Or…"

"I got it." Hermione cut him off. "I understand what you're trying to say, but…"

"No buts. No more self pity. And no more apologizing. We have more important things to worry about right now."

"Yeah," the pair turned, both realizing at the same moment that they'd forgotten Parker's presences. "Like the mob from the court room heading this way." He jabbed his thumb over his right shoulder.

Harry turned around and Hermione leaned around Parker to better see, both taking in the increase of sound and the bright flashes of media bulbs that bounced off the smooth tile walls.

"Perhaps we should take this reunion to a more private location?" he suggested.

Hermione wanted to stop both of the men from going with her. She wanted to tell them to go back to Ron and the family. They would be celebrating tonight and Harry and Parker should both be a part of that celebration. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. As much as she didn't want them to witness her pain and humiliation, she needed them. She needed their strength and she needed their love, most especially their love, right now. It helped keep the bad memories at bay.

"Parker," Hermione reached for his hand, and sighed with relief when he took it. "You're…"

Parker squeezed her hand, quieting her. "I'm not going anywhere, Hermione. Ron will be just fine without me for a few hours. You though," he cupped her face with his free hand, his lips turning down as his eyes racked over her. "You _don't_ look like you'll be fine." Parker's eyes continued to scrutinize her, sorrow washing his features with every new detail he observed. "Ron's an idiot if he can't see what you've done for him."

Hermione tried to jerk her face away, but his fingers held her tight. Tears sprung to her eyes in heavy pools. She didn't want to think about him. Not now. Not when the sounds of the crowd was growing louder around them. She expected they would be upon them any second and she was not ready to see Ron or the red haired woman who'd rushed to his side. The woman who'd caused his face to light up like the sun when he smiled at her. Her lips trembled, muddling the words as they came out, making them almost incomprehensible. "We should go."

Parker must have seen the flash of pain in her eyes. He looked back over her shoulder as he released her face, seeming to understand. He repositioned her hand in his, making it easier to twine his fingers between hers. Harry reached for her other hand. Turning quickly, the three of them hurried the length of the hall, not stopping until they were standing in front of the lifts. Harry pressed the call button. To their great relief, a grate clanked open and Harry, Hermione and Parker rushed inside. Harry pressed the button for the floor the Auror department was located on and the lift lurched into motion.

* * *

Ron couldn't stand it. Not for one moment longer. Oh, things were fine on the surface. Everyone had patted him on the back and congratulated him on Blake's safe return. And he knew they meant it of course. Blake had been passed around for a good three hours, everyone taking their chance to welcome her home. It was obvious she had been missed. But even their joy at her return could not lessen the tight knot in the pit of his stomach. Every time he looked at his watch or glanced toward the door or scanned the room for his missing best friends, the knot grew worse.

Ron frowned as he turned away from the door. He knew what was keeping Harry. There was only one thing that could keep him from this impromptu celebration. Whatever they were doing Ron couldn't help but fear that it would not bode well for him. Nothing they did together these days bode well for him. His scowl deepened as he again overheard one well-wisher ask another where Hermione Granger was hiding herself.

Most of the people crowding his family home had come under the impression that the celebration would be a dual one. For him and Blake as well as for Hermione. These people, most of them anyway, were her friends too. People they knew from Hogwarts and the Ministry. Witches and wizards had turned out in droves, so much that there hadn't been enough room in the house and had eventually spilled out into the back garden. It was insanity.

The main floor of the house was hot and crowded and the noise level was defining. He would have left long ago but his mother had claimed Blake a short while ago after working like a mad woman to make sure her guests were comfortable and Ron had the feeling she would not be giving her up any time soon.

Desperate though for a moment alone away from all the chaos and well wishes and good cheer, Ron had reluctantly sought escape. He ducked to his left when no one was looking and slipped up the stairs, hoping as he rounded the corner, that no one had seen his retreat.

He climbed until he disappeared behind the spiraling stairs, turned when he reached the second landing, and fell into a heap of long arms and legs. The noise of the crowd climbed the stairs after him, but was dampened by every twist and turn of the house, softening it until it was only a dull roar, easy to ignore like the crashing waves on a distant beach. Periodically someone laughed, but the raise in volume went mostly unnoticed.

Ron sagged forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He was exhausted. If he had to tell just one more person how happy he was that Blake was home… Of course he was happy Blake was home. What kind of idiot asked a man if he was happy his child was home? It was like asking him if he was happy he could breath. Of course he was happy. This only compounded the stress he already felt from watching his daughter be handed around from one person to the next like a Quaffel, terrified that the next pair of empty hands was going to be the one to try and snatch her away again. He didn't know how much more of it he could stand. The fact that Blake was safe with his mother for a good long while was the only thing that let Ron relax his guard long enough to step away. Nothing would happen to Blake on Molly Weasley's watch. But still, he was exhausted. What he really wanted to do, what he should do, was go downstairs, retrieve Blake, and go home. But what if Hermione was there waiting for him? His body tensed at the thought. He was not ready for that conversation. But even as he dreaded the inevitable argument, a worse scenario niggled at the back of his brain too terrible to even contemplate.

Sighing so that his shoulders sagged, Ron rolled his head to the right and looked out the landing window into the back garden, scanning it for signs of his best friends. Still no Harry. Still no Parker. His shoulders hunched as he looked away from the window.

Jealousy swelled under his breast despite his best attempt to keep it at bay. Selfishly, he wanted everyone he cared for there. Which only held doubly true for his best friends. Even now, despite everything that had happened, Harry's betrayal and…well… just everything else, his celebration didn't feel complete without them.

Sighing, Ron thrust his fingers through his hair, scratching agitatedly at his scalp. He sucked in a slow breath as his thoughts once again landed on the person he'd been trying so hard not to think about all evening. Hermione.

The image of her sitting in that courtroom chair, a grotesque shadow of the person he knew, swam in front of his eyes. Tight bands seemed to strap around his chest. It was hard to see anyone that way, but Hermione… The bands seemed to tighten with every breath, making it harder and harder to breath.

Ron shifted his eyes away from the happy scene outside, blocking out the image of his family and friends celebrating below. His thoughts were already spinning out of his control again. He shook his head manically, trying to rain them back before it was too late. He wasn't ready to go there. Not yet. His emotions were too conflicted. Yes, they needed to talk. He knew that. There was so much he needed to say to her. But he wasn't good with words and he needed to know what he was going to say so he didn't say something stupid he was going to regret later. It would have been nice to know what she was thinking, to have some idea what she was going to say to him so that he could prepare. However life didn't work that way. There wasn't a script written that could help him through this minefield. And they couldn't continue to go on like this. It was too hard. Too painful… They needed to settle things once and for all…no matter the outcome…so that they could both move on and live… their lives…whatever that might entail.

Ron let out a shaky breath as he rubbed at his chest, trying to ease the ache. He'd put off thinking about this, about her, for as long as he could, focusing instead on the much easier joy and relief of Blake's return. But time was quickly running out. He couldn't avoid Hermione forever. The time for stalling had passed and he had to make a decision.

His stomach turned over. It wasn't fair. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to pretend like everything was all right again. It wasn't. Yes Blake was home. Yes she was safe. Yes, a large hole in his heart had been mended. But it hadn't healed everything. Not even close. There were still pieces missing. Harry helping Hermione hide Blake from him still ached like a knife wound. And Hermione… How did he even begin to put those pieces back together?

Overwhelmed, Ron dropped his head into his hands, his fingers weaving through his hair. He had no idea what he was going to do or what he was going to say. But most of all, how the hell was he even supposed to begin the conversation when he didn't know where in the bloody hell it was going to end? How was he suppose to anticipate what she was thinking when he couldn't figure out his own mind? Everything was still so jumbled and there were pieces missing…

Making a sound of disgust Ron turned his head once more towards the window, resting his brow against the cool glass and sighing as the chill drew some of the pain out of his aching head.

After several minutes Ron opened his eyes and looked down at the crowd enjoying the cool night air of the back garden. His team had gathered around a fire that one of them had undoubtedly built. Gwen sat at the head of the circle, arms gesturing frantically and face contorting as she regaled her comrades with one of her many amusing stories.

Outside the firelight a few of his siblings had gathered. They were easily recognizable, even in the dark, by the fiery crop of hair that set them apart. Not a single one of them had asked the question, the one he knew was on all their minds. What was going on between him and Hermione?

He assumed most of the family believed he and Hermione were only on minimal speaking terms. That they'd only made a sort of truce for the sake of Blake's custody hearing. He also assumed they believed that truce had ended when Hermione lost the case. He supposed in a way they weren't that far off. How could they think any differently when none of them knew the truth of what had really happened between them over the past few months? No one knew, except of course, for Fred and Ginny, who were, for probably the first time in family history, actually keeping what they knew to themselves.

They were both outside now, speaking with Bill, Charlie and Cat. He could tell from where he was sitting, high above the crowd, that they were both very anxious. He wasn't entirely certain what Fred had to be anxious about, but he thought he had a fairly good idea what was troubling Ginny. If the way her eyes kept darting around when she thought no one was watching was any indication, she was very nervous over what was happening with Hermione and eager for Harry to arrive and fill her in.

Not for the first time that evening Ron was wondering just how much she had known. She was, after all, one of Hermione's best friends. If Hermione were going to tell anyone of her plans, Ginny would have been one of the people at the top of her list. But once again, like he always did when the thought came into his head, he dismissed it. He couldn't imagine that she had known. Ginny was a terrible liar to anyone who knew her and could recognize her tells for what they were. And when she was worked up whatever skills she might have possessed went to hell. The indignation and fury she'd had on his behalf was real. She could not have pretended with him because he knew her too well. But that look was gone now. Somewhere in the time between when he had last seen her and now, Ginny appeared to have forgiven Hermione. And now that she was certain both he and Blake would be all right, her concern had shifted.

It was Charlie's turn to speak. He was probably telling the group about one of the times a dragon had escaped the reserve and eaten an entire herd of sheep and the ridiculous story the Ministry had to concoct to cover it up. But Ginny didn't appear to be listening. Her head was slowly turning, scanning the garden from one end to the other in search of Harry. Ron knew the instant she spotted him. The way she carried herself changed immediately, like she'd become suddenly lighter. In an instant she was across the garden, Fred following at her heels.

Harry opened his arms and Ginny threw herself into them. He scooped her up, hugging her tight to his body. The joy and relief on Harry's face was so profound Ron could read it from where he sat on the stairs. Harry tucked his face into her neck and Ron meant to look away and give them privacy, but before he could Harry pulled back and said something. Ginny must have asked him a question. He stared at her a moment then shook his head, almost imperceptibly. Then he spoke and Ginny dropped her arms from his shoulders. He continued to speak and what he said must have upset her because she stepped back. Harry took a step towards her, still speaking. Ginny must not have liked it because she took another step, maintaining the distance between them.

Ron couldn't help but wondered what Harry was telling them. Whatever it was it couldn't be good. Ginny looked really upset. She looked on the verge of tears. Ron put his hand on the step, ready to use it to lever himself up and go down there when she made a slashing motion with her hand, cutting Harry off, and rushed into the house. Harry and Fred exchanged a few words then Harry followed her inside.

Ron stood then. Any moment now Ginny would be rushing the stairs and Harry would be following her. There weren't many places but the upper stories right now to have a private conversation and Ron did not want to be there when the two had theirs.

Ron sighed, his stomach once again turning over into knots. It was time. He'd understood when Harry hadn't immediately come to the Burrow after the trial that he had been with Hermione. What they had done over the past several hours he couldn't begin to imagine. A part of him had thought Harry might try and convince her to come here. He hadn't. Now that Harry was here there were no more excuses to keep him from going home. Hermione was waiting for him and there was no more time left to think and plan and know what exactly he was going to say when he saw her.

For a moment, just one moment, Ron considered staying the night. His mother wouldn't mind. She would welcome it. He knew already it would be a struggle to get Blake from her arms. He could let his mother have her way and his world would remain fully intact for one more night… But his conversation with Bernie was still fresh in his memory. He refused to be a coward anymore. It was time to go home.

Ron took the first step but stopped at the sound of a light tread and the slight wheezing of someone climbing the stairs. Instead of the angry sister he'd been expecting his father rounded the corner, slightly out of breath and holding his daughter. "Dad?"

"Ron?" Arthur looked up at his son, a smile playing across his lips. "I thought I might find you up here." He took the last few steps and offered the sleeping child to her father. When Blake was secure in Ron's arms Arthur sat, smoothing what was left of his red hair so it lay back straight on his head. "Why don't you sit with me for a bit?" He patted the empty space on the step Ron had occupied.

"I thought Ginny and Harry would be…"

Arthur waved his hand. "They cleared the kitchen a few minutes ago. I imagine behind the silencing charms it's quite an exciting conversation they're having. Now come, sit."

"I was just about to…"

"Go home? Yes. I thought as much. Please Ron. I've been hoping to speak with you all evening and I think this might be the only chance we'll have."

Ron looked one last time down the stairs knowing he should go, but took the offered excuse instead and sat. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt and it might give him a little more time to get his mind straight.

They sat for a moment in silence, Arthur rubbing his knees, Ron shifting uncomfortably as he repositioned Blake.

"Dad I,"

"I have to tell you Ron, I'm more than surprised you're still here." He looked at his son out of the corner of his eyes. "I thought you would have left hours ago so you and Hermione could celebrate in privacy."

Ron stiffened, shock coursing through his body. "What are you… Why would Hermione and I…"

"For Merlin's sake, Ron." Arthur laughed. "I've known you you're entire life. And despite what you and your siblings think, I am not completely unobservant."

"I never…"

Arthur put up a hand to silence him. "Never the less, I think I understand what is going on."

"You couldn't possibly…"

"You think so?" Arthur asked. "So you and Hermione haven't been seeing each other in secret?"

Ron's mouth dropped before he had a chance to stop it.

"Hmmm, as I thought." He leaned forward, clasping his hands over his knees. "I also suspect a great deal of your actions over the past five years have been a result of your relationship with her as well. Am I right?"

Ron shook his head in disbelief, "How did you…?"

"Please Ronald. I would need to have been blind not to see the way you looked at her while you were in school. And the depth of your bitterness towards her over the past five years could only be caused by a bad experience with love." Arthur leaned back so he could place a hand on his shoulder. "You were so sad and jaded, son." His fingers squeezed comfortingly. "I wanted so bad to fix things for you. But I couldn't. You're not a little boy any more. You had to fix it yourself."

Ron turned his face away, a failed attempt to hide the deep red that seeped into his pale skin and the rush of moisture to his eyes.

Arthur squeezed his shoulder one last time before he removed his hand. "You don't need to tell me what happened five years ago. It's not important. What I do want to know is why you're here, sitting alone on the steps, when you should be off with Hermione. I thought you two would be celebrating your victory."

"It's not _our_ victory." The bitter words were out before he realized he was going to say them. Ron cringed, cursing himself for not keeping quiet, but there was no judgment in his father's eyes, only understanding and the desire to help. Deciding he had nothing to lose he said, "I had nothing to do with it, dad. She did this all on her own. I would never have done something so stupid as..."

"Of course you would have."

Ron jerked his head around to face his father. "Wha… No. I wouldn't have. I would never…"

"Ronald, you can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself. If roles were reversed and you were in Hermione's position you would have done the exact same thing."

"I wouldn't..."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his son. "You're telling me that if Hermione had a child," something flashed across Ron's face and Arthur amended, "if Sirius James of Bryony were in danger, and Harry and Ginny couldn't do anything to protect them at the risk of going to prison, you're telling me you wouldn't take those children and hide them away somewhere until it was safe to bring them home?"

"Not without telling Harry and Ginny first."

"Is that what this is about?" Arthur leaned forward. "Hermione didn't tell you she was going to take Blake before she did it?"

Ron tried to hold back the words but they rushed out of him angry and bitter and hurt. "I would have told her. I wouldn't have made her suffer, for weeks, not knowing if her child was safe. I would never have made her suffer the agony of not knowing if her child was even alive. You don't know how much sleep I've lost, how many hours I've spent agonizing, how hard I pushed my team, how much trouble I am in at work. She could have saved me so much pain if she had just trusted me with the truth. She should have trusted me enough to know I would never betray her."

Arthur nodded slowly, deep in thought. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps Hermione should have informed you of her intentions."

Ron nodded, satisfied.

"Perhaps she didn't trust you enough to know the truth. Only you can answer that question. You know her better than I do."

"Exactly." Ron sat back, wrapping his arm more securely around Blake.

"But I can't help but wonder…" Arthur looked at Ron from the corner of his eye, "if perhaps you're not looking at this from the wrong perspective?"

Ron raised a skeptical brow.

"Perhaps you should stop asking yourself why Hermione didn't trust you enough to _tell_ you the truth and start asking yourself what truth Hermione trusted you enough to _know_. And maybe," Arthur shrugged, "she didn't tell you certain things because she knows how good an Auror you are and thought you would figure them out on you own."

Ron stared open mouthed at his father. His words sounded inside Ron's brain, voicing many of the fears he was too scared to acknowledge himself.

Sensing the turmoil he'd ignited inside his son Arthur smiled sadly before he patted his knee and rose to his feet. "Go home, Ron. Talk to Hermione. You'll hate yourself if you don't."

Ron watched his father's back as he retreated down the steps. When he disappeared around the bend in the stairs Ron climbed to his feet as well. He stood there unmoving for a minute, aware only of the gentle rise and fall of Blake's chest against his. Shaking his head he took the first step. He was soon rounding the corner and heading down the next flight.

He stopped when he reached the end of the staircase. He'd expected the house to be packed but there were only a few people left, mostly family. He hadn't even noticed anyone leave. His mother was busy tidying the sitting room and through the window he could see his older brothers clearing the garden with the help of a few Alpha members.

"Ronnie," Molly stopped cleaning when she saw him standing there. "I thought you'd gone home. I'm afraid the party ended rather quickly." Her eyes darted to the closed kitchen door then back to him. "It's late and quite quiet now. Why don't you and Blake spend the night? Most of the children are already asleep upstairs. You and Blake will be right at home."

"I would mum," Ron looked anxiously toward the front door, "but Blake and I need to go home."

"If you're sure?" he could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Ron nodded.

"I'll walk you out then." Molly set aside the plates and glasses she'd gathered and joined Ron, walking with him to the front door. "Here," she pulled a worn wrap from a peg on the wall. He recognized it immediately as one of her favorites. She wrapped the soft fabric around Blake, tucking it in tight to cut out the cold. "My sweet girl." She murmured leaning in to kiss the crown of Blake's head.

"We'll be back tomorrow."

A door banged suddenly open in the quiet house, disturbing Blake in her slumber. "Ron," Harry strode angrily from the kitchen. "You and I need to talk."

"Harry," Molly hastened to hush him. "Blake is sleeping."

Harry strode past her, ignoring her. "How could you?"

Ron bristled under Harry's accusing gaze, and Blake, reacting to the tension in the air, fussed unhappily against Ron's chest. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but you have no right to question me on anything right now."

"You left Hermione to rot in prison."

Ron's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, but were we not in the same court room today when I refused to press charges and demanded they release her? Or did I just imagine you and Fred making up a ridiculous story about purchasing magical spit?"

"And why did you do that? Was it because of the guilt you felt when you refused to help her weeks ago when Thomas Peel came to you and told you Oldham put her in Maximum Security? How could you turn your back on her after all that she's done for you?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Ron turned away from his friend. "And I'm not having this conversation with you right now."

"You left her in Maximum Security?" The words were chocked when they came out of Ginny's mouth. "Ron,"

He turned back around, mouth opened to defend himself, but stopped when he saw the mixture of horror and disappointment on the faces of his family. "I see you've already made up your mind and nothing I can say is going to make any difference. So,"

He turned towards the door.

"How could you leave her to the Dementors?" Ginny flew at him, angry tears running down her face. "You let them destroy her. Did you even see her today?" Ginny wanted to strike him, but stopped herself for Blake's sake. "Did you even look at her? It's no wonder she's left. I would leave you too."

Ginny fled the room, taking the stairs several at a time. Ron watched until she disappeared only then registering her parting remarks. "Leave me too?" He turned until he faced Harry. "What did she mean, leave me too?"

"Do you even love her, Ron?" He took a step back. "Because if you don't, just let her go." He turned and followed Ginny up the stairs.

"Ronny," Molly stared at Ron bewildered. "What are they talking about?"

"Nothing, mum." Ron leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'll bring Blake around tomorrow."

Ron turned when he was on the other side of the front door. "It was a great party, mum. Thank you.

Molly smiled at him. "Well, we had reason to celebrate, didn't we?"

"We did." Ron agreed. "Good night."

He pulled the door closed behind him before he stepped off the front stoop and hurried down the gravel drive. When he reached the end he stuck out his wand hand and the air exploded with sound as the purple Knight Bus popped into the street. Blake squirmed again, opening her eyes momentarily, but she readjusted and fell back into deep slumber immediately. "It'll be nice when you're old enough to use the floo." Ron remarked as they walked to the back of the bus and the man waiting to take their fare.

Ron paid and stepped on. He moved down the isle, the man moving closely behind him, urging him on until they came to an empty seat. The moment Ron was seated the bus lurched and the air exploded. They were speeding down an empty city street now, quiet storefronts whizzing past the windows. A sharp turn and they were stopping. An old man wearing a purple hat stepped off.

Ron settled into his seat, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. A quick inventory of the passengers as he entered revealed that the bus was nearly empty. There was a group of young wizards up on the third floor singing a bar song at the top of their lungs, clearly already deep into their cups. They stumbled off at the next stop. After them was a witch and her three small children, all more than half asleep. They climbed off in front of a small country home. The next three stops had one person getting off at each and finally it was his turn.

The Knight Bus jumped through space one last time, reappearing on the dirt lane that led to his home. It rumbled along for a time, kicking up dirt and dust, than screamed to stop a short walk away from his property.

Ron sat there a moment, his breath coming in slow, shallow pants. His very skin crawled with dread as he stared through the darkness at his house. Time was up.

Taking care not to jostle his daughter, how she managed to sleep through an entire Knight Bus ride without waking was beyond him, he climbed to his feet. The steward waited for them at the exit.

As Ron maneuvered past him the man nodded, tipping his hat. "Have a good evening, Mr Weasley." He said as Ron stepped down.

Ron turned to thank him but the bus was already rolling away. He watched as it rumbled to the end of the rode and jumped to its next location. He watched the empty lane for a minute more, not waiting for anything, just staring. His mind was racing wildly and he couldn't bring himself to focus on any one thought.

Blake shifted against his chest. The wrap had come loose exposing one of her arms. As he adjusted the fabric so it covered her, his fingers grazed her exposed skin and it felt cool to his touch. Ron turned to his house. He couldn't stand out here all night, not with Blake in his arms. He needed to put her down for the night. Then he and Hermione could have it out and… That was just the way it was going to have to be.

Ron hurried down the lane as quickly as he could manage without bouncing Blake. His eyes scanned the house as he approached. It felt…off. Not right. His steps slowed as he approached the house, then came to a stop all together. His spine tingled uncomfortably. It took a moment of staring to realize that none of the lights were on. Possibilities he refused to acknowledge crowded the perimeter of his brain. His mind, honed from years of Auror training, was busy analyzing the situation while his hand drew his wand.

Ron approached the house slower this time. His senses continued to scream at him that something didn't feel right. He looked down at his daughter and debated leaving her outside, but in the end shifted her in his arms so that he could use his body to shield her if the need arose. He didn't think it would. He didn't sense danger. Just…wrongness.

Slowly he climbed the steps, wand held at the ready, and unlocked the door. He let the door swing open until it collided with the wall. "Hermione?" His voice echoed faintly in the darkness. He stood there a moment staring into the consuming blackness before casting a revealing spell. The house was empty. She wasn't there.

Something inside Ron shifted in that moment. From the beginning he'd known things were going to end badly. He'd been preparing himself for an epic battle of words that left them both broken and hurt and forever jaded. He'd been so focused on what he would say that might prevent that outcome from happening that he'd never considered the possibility that it wouldn't happen at all. It was incomprehensible to him.

Ron stared into the darkness a few moments more before his mind told his body to go in out of the cold. Ron shut the door behind him and the house became black as pitch. He threw a _lumos_ into the air and the ball of light drifted toward the ceiling where it hovered, illuminating the foyer with its soft light.

Ron's eyes fell closed, blocking out what his subconscious already understood. He turned slowly to his right, his eyes still shut. He hesitated a moment, drawing in several deep breaths, then opened them. A sharp heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. The pegs that had only this morning been overflowing with traveling cloaks looked bare and empty with only four of his cloaks remaining. And the mountain of shoes that normally sat in the corner was reduced to half its size.

Ron turned his head to the left. "Hermione?" He called into the empty house though he already knew he wouldn't hear an answer. Of its own accord his body moved. He could go upstairs and search the closets and dressers for her missing clothes, but he needn't go that far. Instead he stopped at the door to his study. He watched his hand like it wasn't his, reach for the handle of the door and turn it. The lock clicked open. The heavy wood swung easily on the hinges. All the air escaped Ron's lungs in a painful gust.

The bookcases stared back at him, bare and empty, like the eerie smile of a jack-o-lantern with jagged teeth. The books Hermione had so painstakingly organized and lovingly placed on the shelves, they were all gone. She was gone. Ron stumbled back a step. With one swift action she'd made it painfully clear what she'd decided. There would be no discussion. No airing of grievances for either of them. They were over. Done. And she was gone. Just gone from his life like she'd never been a part of it. How could he have been so stupid as to believe she'd be here waiting? Of course she wasn't here waiting. Of course she'd used the time he'd been occupied to come into his home and pack her things and leave. A clean easy break. That's how she liked it. No confrontation.

Ron had to bite back the roar building in his throat. He reached for the handle of the door and pulled it shut with enough force to crack the molding. Blake jerked awake in his arms. She looked up at him through startled eyes and when she opened her mouth her cries pierced the air and speared him straight through the chest. The band around his already throbbing heart synched tighter.

"Blake, I'm sorry." He cradled her head while he murmured soothingly to her. "I'm so sorry." His eyes filled with tears, knowing he was apologizing for far more than simply waking her. He closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall and lowered himself to the floor. "It will be all right, Blake, I promise. You and I are going to be just fine. We don't need anyone, do we?" Ron turned his head and rested his cheek against her black curls." You and I will be just fine on our own. We don't need her." He let his eyes drift closed. "We don't need anyone. Right? You and I. That's all we need."

* * *

Hermione didn't know what was worse, not seeing her parents for months, or living with them and not being able to say anything to them. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk… Of course she wanted to talk to them. They were her parents. She just didn't know what to say. Not anymore than they knew what to say to her.

She blinked to clear her tears and the woman staring at her from across the room blinked back. She forced her throat to swallow past the hard lump caught in it. Even now, though she'd been staring at her reflection for hours, she could hardly recognize herself in the woman staring back. Those gaunt cheeks couldn't be hers. Those lifeless, muddy eyes certainly belonged to someone else. It was no wonder her parents hadn't recognized her when she'd shown up on their front door two nights ago. She couldn't imagine what kind of shock it had been for them. The look of horror on their faces when they realized the decrepit woman, covered in filth, standing on their doorstep was their only daughter haunted her. She could still see the way the hurt had settled into the deep lines of their faces as she, Harry and Parker explained what had brought her home. Her lips trembled as she wondered what had hurt them more, that she had been in prison or that she had kept it from them. And now… she had no idea what to say to them. Probably no more than they knew what to say to her. What did you say to someone who had admittedly committed a serious crime?

Not that they hadn't tried. Her father had been at her door not fifteen minutes ago asking her if she wanted to come down. A program he remembered as one of her favorites was playing on the television. Half hour before that it was to see if she wanted to join them for dinner. Two hours before that, if she wanted tea. They were trying and she loved them all the more for it… but she didn't want to come down. She didn't want to leave her room. She wanted to stay tucked safe in the close security and shadows of these four walls and wallow in her own misery a little longer.

She blinked slowly, but the image in the mirror didn't change. She ran her tongue over her lips to wet them. She really should eat. It would only do her good to consume some calories. She might even feel better. Happier. Her stomach turned at the thought. Maybe she would try again later.

Hermione closed her eyes, determined to slip into a few minutes of oblivious sleep, only to have her solitude disturbed by the jarring chimes of the front bell.

For a fleeting moment Hermione wondered who might be at the door, but lost interest just as quickly. She had been up nearly the entire night for the past two, waiting, playing out fantasies in her mind of Ron coming after her, all the while trying to ignore the unfamiliar sights and sounds that surrounded her. She could still hardly believe he'd come to the hearing. It felt like a dream. A wonderful, blissful dream she still half expected to wake up from at any moment. She'd tried to fathom out what his motivations had been. She desperately wanted to believe he still loved her. That he had come to the hearing to save _her_. But then she remembered the red haired woman and she was forced to conclude that he'd done it for Harry, or maybe even Fred. But it most certainly had not been for her. And that was the reason he hadn't come.

Not that she expected him to. She'd done a very good job of making certain he never would. Was it any wonder he'd sought comfort in the arms of a beautiful woman?

Hermione curled her body into a tight protective ball. No, whoever was at the front door was there for her parents. And if by that slim chance it would be for her it would be Harry, or possibly Parker. But it most certainly would not be Ron.

With a growl Hermione hoisted herself up with one arm and pounded her fist into the pillow with the other, angry at herself for her own thoughts. What was wrong with her? She'd lost Ron before and hadn't fallen apart. She'd gone on with her life. She'd made friends and had a job and enjoyed what life had to offer. She collapsed back onto the pillow, closing her eyes. So why couldn't she do that now? Why couldn't she just move on and forget all the terrible things that had happened?

Soft treads interrupted her thoughts and announced the approach of her mother. She recognized them as they were much lighter than her fathers. They came to a stop on the other side of her door. Her mother paused a moment, Hermione imagined it was to prepare herself, before she knocked on the door. "Hermione," she waited, as if for a response. "Hermione, there's someone here to see you."

Hermione exhaled slowly. She turned onto her other side, putting her back to the mirror, and burrowed her face deep into her pillow. "Tell Harry I'm sleeping."

Much to Hermione's surprise the steps didn't retreat. Instead the door opened and the light from the hallway sliced through the darkness and flooded her face. She threw up a hand to block the light, and blinked threw it to see her mother standing in the doorway. She crossed her arms over her chest while frowning sadly at Hermione. "It's isn't Harry." She moved away from the door to stand at the foot of Hermione's bed. "Minerva McGonagall is here to see you." She waited a moment, as Hermione turned onto her back and propped herself up with her elbows. "Should I send her away?"

Hermione used her hands to push herself up until she was sitting. "Professor McGonagall? What does she want?" She pushed a knot of curls out of her face.

"I don't know, Hermione." Her mother shook her head. "I didn't ask. I _did,_ howver, tell her you would be down in a few minutes." Her eyes slid over Hermione's rumpled pajamas, her face and to her hair, a deep frown creasing her face, ageing her. "Perhaps you should take those few minutes to bathe and put on fresh clothes." When Hermione didn't immediately move her mother clapped her hands. "Now, Hermione."

Reacting to a deeply ingrained instinct, Hermione immediately threw her covers off and rolled out of her bed and onto her feet. She was halfway to her closet before she realized she wasn't a child anymore and didn't need to jump to obey her mother. Suddenly indignant she considered climbing back into bed to prove that point, but gave up the idea, recognizing the immaturity in the desire. Besides, Professor McGonagall was waiting and it was rude to keep her.

Hermione collected the first clean pair of slacks and a sweater she found and brought them to the shower. After three rinses she could run her fingers through her hair and used a fourth for good measure. She scrubbed every inch of her body until her skin tingled and brushed her teeth until the bad taste was gone.

She quickly ran a towel over her body and used her wand to evaporate most of the moisture from her hair. Her fingers tingled as the magic surged through her hand and out the shaft of wood. She moaned, relishing the flow of magic.

Satisfied her hair was dry enough; Hermione pulled it back in a low pony before donning her clothes. Not bothered by the remainder of her appearance, she tossed the wet towels and dirty clothes in the hamper.

Hermione made her way down the hall but stopped at the top of the stairs. She looked down over the banister into the foyer, into all that open space, than back into the comforting enclosure of the narrow hall. Her body locked down, unable to make herself go any further. It was too much. Too big. She wanted to go back the way she'd come and sneak into her room, climb into her bed, and ignore the world. That would be so much easier. So much safer. But she knew she couldn't do that. McGonagall had come all this way to see her… Hermione tried to move, tried to life her foot but she was frozen with panic.

And what was Professor McGonagall doing here anyway? In her house? Waiting for her? And so soon after the trial? It didn't make any sense. Nothing good could come from this meeting, she was certain.

Hermione caught her lip between her teeth while turning her head away. She'd always looked up to Professor McGonagall. Admired her more than almost any other of her teachers. She didn't know if she could bear to see the disappointment in the eyes of the woman she'd worked her entire school career to gain the approval of.

She'd almost decided to turn back around and retreat to her room but stopped in the end because of her mother. Hermione knew she would not hesitate in coming up after her if she took too long. Wanting to spare herself the humiliation of being summoned like a small child she took a breath, lifted her right foot, and placed it gingerly on the first step. She thought the first step would be the hardest. She was wrong. Each step that followed grew harder and harder as she got further and further away from the comfort of the narrow hallway. Her anxiety grew as the room seemed to expand around her. She paused halfway down the stairs, fingers curled painfully tight into the banister, unable to continue.

She sank into a deep crouch on the step, covering her face as hot tears slid down her raw skin. Shame seeped through her body, mating with her dread until it crippled her. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't be like this. She shouldn't be so afraid all the time. She'd never let her fear have this kind of control over her before. But she didn't know how to stop it. She didn't think she could. The tears came hot and fast drenching her hands and falling onto the front of her shirt.

"Hermione,"

Her head whipped up so fast a sharp pain shot down the side of her neck. She gapped for a moment before she dashed her sleeve across her eyes and rose shakily to her feet. "Professor." She tugged anxiously at the hem of her sweater while she stepped down one stair. "Professor, I…" She struggled for a moment to find the words to explain herself but in the end gave up and settle for "Good evening, Professor."

Minerva McGonagall stared shrewdly at Hermione, her lips turned down in the corner. Not in disapproval, but in sadness. "Ms Granger," she nodded. "How lovely to see you again."

Hermione forced her legs to move and made her way down the stairs to stand in front of the older witch. She lifted her trembling hand to offer the old teacher, but had to swallow past the hard lump in her throat before she had the air to speak. "And you, Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall extended her own hand. When Hermione made to release her grasp, McGonagall's fingers held steady. Her astute eyes narrowed, taking in all of Hermione's appearance. Her lips pursed as the inspection continued, though her eyes seemed to soften in the corner. Hermione shifted uncomfortably, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger before catching herself and tucking it safely behind her ear.

McGonagall sighed as she released her hand. "They're a terrible blight on the wizading world, aren't they, Ms Granger?"

"What are, Professor?"

"Dementors." Her lips set in a resolute line. "I never thought I'd see the day you would become one of their victims."

Not knowing how to respond Hermione released the woman's hand and this time she let go. She took a step back, feeling more comfortable with more space between them. She took a breath in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves. She motioned to the room McGonagall had come from. "Would you like to sit?"

"Melvin," her mother's voice came from the room behind McGonagall. "Why don't you help me in the kitchen?" Seconds letter her parents crowded the doorway. They waited for Professor McGonagall to enter before they slipped into the hall. When they drew abreast with their daughter, her mother put her hand on Hermione's back and gave her a gentle nudge into the room.

McGonagall had already retaken her seat and was waiting expectantly for Hermione to come and join her. "Please, Ms Granger. We have much to discuss."

Hermione took several awkward steps. "I'm sorry, Professor. I'm afraid I don't understand why you're here. I mean," she took a step towards the sofa, "Why would you be here?... To see _me_ of all people?"

"Please, Ms Granger." Minerva motioned to an empty seat. "Sit."

Reacting to the expectation on McGonagall's face, Hermione hurried to take the seat. This time, however, when she recognized that she'd once more jumped to do an adult's bidding she didn't scold herself. She doubted anyone who had ever had Minerva McGonagall for a teacher would be able to disobey an order, indirect or not.

When Hermione was sitting McGonagall took up her coffee. "How are you, Ms Granger?" She took a sip, grimaced, and cast a warming charm until steam rose off the dark brown surface.

Hermione shifted in her seat, wishing she had a cup of coffee as well, not to drink, but to occupy her hands. Hermione's tongue darted out to wet her lips. "You came all this way to ask me how I am?" Her eyes met McGonagall's for a moment before looking away. "Wouldn't it have been quicker to send an owl?"

McGonagall's lips twitched. "I see your stay in Azkaban has not completely altered your personality. You do look like you need several straight meals though. When was the last time you ate?"

Hermione sat back, brows furrowed. "I don't know." Her head quivered. "I haven't really felt up for…"

"I can wait while you find…"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione had to look away again. "Why are you here?"

Under other circumstances McGonagall's surprised face would have been comical. She certainly wasn't accustomed to being interrupted. But Hermione was no longer a child, and seeming to acknowledge that, McGonagall continued without comment. "Very well." She replaced her coffee on the table. "I'm getting old, Ms Granger." Hermione opened her mouth to object but McGonagall threw up a hand to halt her, the look on her face warning her not to interrupt. "I'm getting old, and managing the duties of the Headmistress while giving the appropriate attention to my Transfiguration classes has become increasingly difficult." She sighed. "I'm afraid I can't do it anymore."

Hermione shook her head, her mouth hanging slightly open. "I'm sorry? I still don't understand. What has this to do with me?"

"I came here today in hope of persuading you to accept a teaching position at Hogwarts."

Time screamed to a stop for one moment before Hermione's eyes bugged out of her face. She gapped noiselessly. When the words came, after a minute of stunned silence, they were a laugh. "Excuse me?"

"I'd like you to come back to Hogwarts and teach." Minerva said, ignoring the nearly insulting manner in which the question was asked. "I've put off finding a replacement for too long now. It's time. I thought we'd start by having you take on the first through fourth years. I'll continue teaching the O.W.L trough N.E.W.T students. I don't think I could give up teaching all together. Not just yet."

Hermione continued to stare at McGonagall, her mouth still hanging open. Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment before she managed. "I don't understand." Her head shook. "Why?"

"Why _what_, Ms Granger?"

"Why what? Why are you _here -_ asking _me_ - to come and be a teacher at Hogwarts?" She clasped her hands in front of her, rubbing circles into her palm with her thumb. "It's absurd. You certainly cannot be unaware of what's…"

McGonagall lifted her voice to be heard. "I know all about the trial, Ms Granger."

Hermione fell silent.

"How could I not? The press certainly made sure it was well covered."

"If you know… then I'm even more confused. Why would you ask me? You have to know I'm guilty. That I got off on a technicality."

"That" McGonagall leaned forward, "is precisely the reason I am offering you the position. Ms Granger. Hermione," she abandoned all formality and placed a hand on the young witch's arm, "That was a very brave thing you did. Unbelievably stupid, and careless," Hermione couldn't help but snort in agreement, "But brave none the less. And most importantly, it was the right thing. There's no telling what would have become of that child if she'd been left under the care of those despicable…" her nostrils flared. "It frightens me to think what could have happened. And I believe…no, I know, Professor Dumbledore would have been very proud of you as well."

Hermione lowered her face to hide both the flush of pleasure that turned her cheeks red and the rush of tears that pooled behind her eyes.

"Which is exactly why I want you teaching at Hogwarts. You're a bright, highly capable witch. I believe the students of Hogwarts would learn a great deal and benefit from having you around. But also, you have proven you will go to great lengths to protect a child. These are qualities I deem highly important when I interview a perspective teacher."

Hermione bit her bottom lip to staunch her excitement. A job. At Hogwarts. Never would she have imagined this was the reason McGonagall sought her out today. Teaching at Hogwarts? Before this very moment she'd never considered the possibility… but now that it had been offered to her…she wanted it. Desperately. Any job would have been a blessing, a wonderful distraction from the tormenting thoughts that still swam around in her brain. But teaching? And at Hogwarts? That beautiful school where, no matter how many times her life was in peril, she still felt safe. The place where she had been the happiest. She wanted to jump at the chance, to say yes before McGonagall realized the mistake she was making, and retract the offer. But she couldn't in good conscience accept.

Hermione drew a deep breath, garnishing her strength. "That's very kind of you to offer Professor…" she needed another breath, "but I don't think the parents will want me near their children. And I don't blame them. Who in their right mind would let a known kidnapper near their child?"

McGonagall frowned at her. "That's sounds like an excuse, Ms Granger. If you don't want the position simply say so."

"That's not it." Hermione hastened to assure. "You have no idea how much I want to say yes."

McGonagall arched a brow.

"Do you honestly believe the parents will allow it? That the school board will?"

"I've already discussed it with the school board and the faculty."

"I've kidnapped a child once before, after all." She rushed on as if McGonagall hadn't spoken. "Who's to say I won't do it again?"

"Would you?"

Hermione didn't answer. She couldn't. Not truthfully.

"If the need arose." McGonagall answered for her knowingly. "If it meant protecting a child. Which is why I believe the parents would be happy to have you teaching their children. Not only are you brilliant, you are kind and understanding and the students would only benefit from having you as a teacher. And if that wasn't reason enough, the vast majority of the wizarding community sees your actions as nothing short of heroic. You're a hero, Hermione. And everyone knows that."

Hermione lowered her face to hide the tears she couldn't stop from sliding down her cheeks. "Why are you being so kind to me?"

"And why wouldn't I be kind to you?" McGonagall reached for her hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "Need I remind you that you were not found guilty of anything? What's more, you did a great kindness for Mr Weasley. And what it comes down to, Ms Granger, is that you're in need of a job. A chance to get back on your feet. I'm offering it to you. I want you to come and join our staff. In fact, I insist you do." McGonagall rose to her feet, as if the matter were settled. She looked down at Hermione as she tugged her robes neatly into place. "I will be expecting you Wednesday morning. I realize that doesn't give you much time to put your affairs in order, but school waits for no one."

"But, I haven't said yes."

"You will. Wednesday morning, Ms Granger."

And she was gone before Hermione had the presence of mind to walk her to the door or to even thank her. Here someone was kind enough to give her a second chance and she'd failed in the most basic nicety of saying thank you.

"Hermione?" she looked up to see her parents standing framed in the doorway. Her mother took another step into the room. "What did she want, dear?"

Hermione blinked. It took her a moment to process the question. "She… She came to offer me a job."

Her mother and father looked at each other quickly, their eyes catching.

"That's wonderful, darling." Her father took her hand as he sat in the seat next to her. "But what about your job at the Ministry?"

Hermione picked absently at the cuticle of her right thumb.

"Hermione," he took her other hand, clasping it tight between both of his large warm ones. "You're going to have to tell us what happened someday."

Her lips trembled. "Yes daddy, but not today. I'm…"

He squeezed her fingers. "When you're ready."

Hermione nodded.

The cushions sank as Hermione's mother took a seat on her free side. She slowly ran her fingers through Hermione's hair, careful not to pull hard when they caught. "I hadn't realized you'd applied for a new position."

Hermione tipped her head, eyes closed, giving her mother better access to her hair. "I hadn't." Her breath evened and slowed as her mother continued to run her fingers through the damp strands. She wanted to lay her head down on her mother's lap as she had as a child, and luxuriate in the comforting pull.

The small family was quiet for several minutes as they each grappled with the repercussions of their situation. Knowing that she was the cause of her family's pain weighed heavily on Hermione. She was ashamed to admit that not once in the process of planning Blake's rescue, trying to find a solution that would cause the least damage to the people she loved, has she taken her parents and their feelings into account. What kind of daughter was she?

She looked between her parents, first her mother and then her father. It killed her that they weren't talking. That no matter how they tried, they weren't entirely comfortable in each other's presences. She was as much a stranger to them as they were to her, and it killed her inside. Before she'd left for Hogwarts, back when she was a little girl of eleven, she'd confided everything in her parents. Everything. And now there was nothing but this silence. This inability of hers to just tell them what she had done to herself. It ate at her heart like a virus.

"When will you be leaving?"

Hermione started at the sound of her mother's voice. "Mum," she turned so that her whole body faced her mother. "I haven't accepted."

Her mother's soft, cold hand came to rest on Hermione's cheek, the thumb rubbing across the bone to wipe away the trace of tears. "But you will."

"Why is everyone so sure I…"

"Because, Hermione," her dad smiled. "We all know you don't do well being idle. You need purpose in your life. I think you've been without purpose for too long now. You and I both know you're going to accept that job. And you should." Hermione met his eyes. He didn't need to say anything more. She knew he understood. After all of this, the years of separation and the current disappointment, he still understood. They both did.

"Mum, dad," her voice quivered, "I'm sorry I…"

"You don't need to say anything, Hermione." Her mother soothed, pulling her into her arms.

"No," Hermione pulled back. "I do. I need to tell you how sorry I am for staying away so long. And I don't just mean Spain and… and…I've been gone a very long time. Since I began Hogwarts, and…" her head hung, her chin nearly rubbing the flat of her chest. "I'm sorry."

"Hermione," Melvin waited for her to lift her head and meet his gaze. "You don't have to apologize for having your own life. That's what every parent wants for their child. And we understand about the war and your part in it."

"But maybe," her mother said slowly, taking care to try and hide her longing but failing, "maybe you could come home for a visit more often."

Hermione nodded. "I can do that."

"Good." This time when her mother pulled Hermione into her arms she didn't protest. She laid her head on her mother's shoulder and closed her eyes. "And when you're ready," she said in a lower voice. "We'll talk about everything that happened and you can explain it to us. Because I really want to understand."

Hermione nodded.

"Alright then, that's enough for now." Her mother pulled back until Hermione was held at arm's length. "Now. Tell us about this job you've been offered."

"Professor McGonagall wants me to take over teaching Transfiguration to the younger years."

"Which means you'll be moving into the castle."

Hermione turned to look at her father. "I hadn't thought about that, but I suppose. Yes."

"Where are your things? I didn't see you or Harry or that other young man,"

"Parker."

"Yes Parker. I didn't see any boxes come in with you. Just a few bags. That can't be all you have."

"Er," Hermione brushed her hair back off her face. "All my things are at Parkers. I knew there wouldn't be room here… and I wanted everything in one place. "

"I could help you collect them."

"No." Hermione shook her head. "That's alright. Most everything is in boxes. And it would be easier if Harry and Parker just helped me. It would be complicated enough trying to get you to Parker's flat. Trying to get you to Hogwarts, that would be impossible."

Her father nodded, disappointed, but understanding.

Hermione slowly detangled from her mother's arms and stood. "I think I'll go write Harry and Parker now. Let them know what's going on."


End file.
